


Pony

by ohhotlamb



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Biphobia, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Slow Build, chef!kagami, is that false advertisement, kuroko is a little poop nugget, stripper!aomine, the stripping part is only like 1 percent of the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 121,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhotlamb/pseuds/ohhotlamb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami wonders at what point in their friendship Kuroko got this manipulative. Getting bullied into accompanying him to a strip club wasn’t on Kagami’s agenda, and neither was the absolute trauma that followed. But Aomine Daiki is also a pretty good dancer, and his looks are slightly above average (honestly, like only a <em>tiny</em> bit), so maybe this isn’t a complete waste of time. Except there should be some kind of warning stamped onto Aomine’s forehead, something along the lines of “Absolute Dickwad: Handle at Your Own Risk.” </p><p>But Kagami’s never been one to turn down a challenge, and it turns out that there might be a little more to Aomine than first meets the eye. </p><p>Or: In which Kagami is coerced into accompanying Kuroko to a strip club, watches Aomine "Hottie with a Body" Daiki dance, and his life changes forever.</p><p> </p><p>- CURRENTLY ON HIATUS -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. my saddle's waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love you (till you're seeing stars and stripes)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358887) by [gunboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunboots/pseuds/gunboots). 



The tragic tale of how Kagami Taiga ended up slouched low in a chair pouting at a male strip club was not a long story.

The extremely simplified version could be summarized in two words: Kuroko Tetsuya. The long version really isn’t much longer, going a little something like this:

“Kagami-kun, I would greatly appreciate your company this evening. If it's not too much trouble.”

“Uh, sorry but I can't. I have to get up early again for work tomorrow and—“

And then Kuroko proceeded to bring up a very embarrassing memory of college-age Kagami, one involving streaking naked in the public park on a dare and getting caught and subsequently ogled by a bunch of old ladies. This friendly reminder was followed by a cool, "Oh, by the way, have I told you that my blog traffic has increased to one million visitors per week? Truly remarkable."

Even Kagami, dense as he was, was able to see blackmail when it was being rubbed in his face. He quickly agreed before running off to work, not even thinking to ask where they were going. That had been a mistake. 

Thus, now both of them were sitting at a table, Kagami’s arms crossed across his chest, the spitting image of a petulant child, as across from him Kuroko happily sips a fruity drink from a glass with an umbrella.

“You don’t even like alcohol,” Kagami grumbles, frowning deeply as he stares at the dirty laces of his shoes. He tries to look as irritate as possible, lest anyone thinks he's here of his own free will.  _  
_

“This kind tastes good. Stop scowling, Kagami-kun. I assure you, you will enjoy yourself.” Kuroko says, takes a contented slurp of his drink.

Kagami groans, covers his face with his hands, wishes he could be home already. He's feeling very out of place. Privately, he's sort of impressed by how classy the place is. While it's dark and murky, the background thump of electronic music beating into his ears, the tables are also covered by crisp white tablecloths, little flower vases and candles in the center. There are a multitude of potted plants covered in white fairy lights around the vast room, and the staff are all dressed cleanly. He's pleased that the air doesn't reek of cigarettes or sweat like he expected, instead smelling of what he thinks is Pine Sol mixed with the floral quality of perfume. People are dressed nicely, dresses and button-up shirts, and he feels self-conscious of his jeans and t-shirt, smelling like a greasy frying pan. Kagami never thought he'd see the day when he felt too shabby to be in a strip club, yet here he was.

He narrows his eyes, watches Kuroko's cheeks hollow as he sucks on the swirly straw. “It’s not like I have anything against places like this, but it’s just not my thing at all.  And honestly, it’s not yours either. Why are we even here?” He subtly tries to bang his head on the table and fails, pretends that no one turns to scope out the source of the hollow thud.

Kuroko gives an acknowledging hum, pops his mouth of the straw, begins twirling it around the glass with his fingers. “A close friend of mine from high school recently got in contact with me.  We've met for coffee several times, and he wanted to show me where he worked. Apparently, he’s been working very hard on his newest set.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Kagami glances up, realization dawning followed by a sour scowl.

“'Set'? You mean he's an actual _dancer_ here? God, what kind of people did you hang out with in high school?"

Kuroko doesn't say anything, and as Kagami watches him, looking for any giveaways, he makes the next connection. He leans his chin on his hand, raises his eyebrows condescendingly. " _Oh._ And let me guess. You’re interested.” 

Kuroko gives another noncommittal shrug, his fingers drawing shapes into the condensation of his glass, Kagami noting the very faint pink tinting to his cheeks. “I find it quite harmless coming to see where he works. I wanted to show him that I’m a friend who's willing to support his career.”

“Uh-huh, 'support his career'." Kagami makes exaggerated air quotes, lays the sarcasm on thick. "You're just after his ass. Not that I care, but do tell how I fit into this master plan.”

Kuroko looks over at him sadly.

“I’m wounded. You really want your best friend to sit at a table in a strip club all by himself?”

" _You—"_   Kagami pauses, grinds his teeth together, works to control the volume of his voice. “Let me get this straight,” he growls. “You dragged me here because you wanna bang your hot boy toy from high school, and you _didn't wanna go alone._ ”

“How crude.” Kuroko says, his face completely neutral, not even pretending to be offended.

Kagami snorts. “I have no choice. I can’t sugar coat shit with you or else you try to weasel your way out. Like now,” he mutters bitterly. 

“Kagami-kun, let’s stop playing the blame game. I believe the show is about to begin." And as he speaks, the lights dim and the people around them give shrieks of excitement, everyone who had been standing about socializing bouncing back to their tables. A blinding spotlight illuminates center stage, on either side of it dark velvet curtains. 

Exasperated, Kagami sighs, and he turns to better face the stage. Soon enough, a beautiful woman with pastel pink hair sashays her way into view, her sequin-coated dress glittering under the harsh lights. She stands in the spotlight like she was born there, her sultry eyes half-lidded as she scans the crowd with a smile, hands on her hips, a microphone headset arranged near her mouth. 

Kuroko makes a noise low in his throat.

Kagami leans across the table, waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “What? You wanna bang her too? Damn Kuroko, someone’s gettin’ greedy,” he whispers smugly. Kuroko shoots him an irritated glance.

“Coincidentally, I also know Momoi-san from high school. I am simply surprised.”

Kagami's curious, wants Kuroko to elaborate, but he decides to drop it and ask later because the woman begins to speak, and her voice is so alluring and pleasant that he can't stop himself from quickly becoming captivated. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Are we ready for a fun show tonight?” The woman, Momoi, all but sighs into the microphone. The answering cheers are wildly enthusiastic, whistles coming from the very back of the room and she smiles. He's under the distinct impression that she's completely aware that the audience is putty in her hands. 

“That’s what I like to hear! We have the best of the best with us here tonight, including our club favorite, the Black Panther!” She smiles slyly, holds her hand to her ear as if to encourage the audience. She doesn't need to. The reaction is instantaneous—the clapping is a dull roar underneath the crazed screams; he looks around to see women already fanning themselves, giggling to one another. He tries to block out the background noise and focus on Momoi's voice.

"Now, I hate to be a party pooper, but before we begin there are a few rules we'd like everybody to follow." There's a collective sigh as Momoi holds up her index finger. "Number one: no pictures." There are several groans and she titters in reply. "Now, now. Don't be like that. You'll get an eyeful, I promise." She's walking herself in figure-eights across the stage, her steps exaggerated and slow, high heels clicking across the blacktop. "In fact, it would be great if you could keep your phones away completely. If you need to make a call, please go outside." 

"Number two!" She holds up two fingers, brings them to her lips and in a movement so quick Kagami thinks he might have imagined it she gives them a quick swipe with her tongue. Her following grin is mischievous, reminding him of the Cheshire cat.

"We ask that you mind your language. I know our boys are tempting, and the boys know it, too. But we don't need Horny McGee shouting from the back that he wants to fuck so-and-so senseless. It's very distracting, and very distasteful." 

"And finally, rule number three! No. Touching." She sing-songs, waggles three fingers and as the crowd begins to protest she holds up her other hand to silence them. 

"However," she purrs, a devious smile curving up her mouth, "if a dancer decides to touch _you,_  then I'm sure they'd have no problem with it if you decide not to keep your hands to yourself.''And she emphasizes her words by sliding her own hands sensually down her waist, bottom lip between her teeth and Kagami swears he sees someone wipe drool off their chin. 

"Now that the boring part's taken care of, let me introduce our show-stopping opener of the evening. Sinfully sexy and up to no good, may I introduce the Hawk Eye!” She says, gesturing to a figure slipping out from the left side of the stage as she exits from the other. The people at the tables all around them shout out their approval, letting out wolf whistles and stomping their feet. Kuroko claps politely and Kagami stares incredulously.

“What kind of name is that?” He shoots at Kuroko, not finding the power within him to even laugh. Kuroko glances at him, then back to the stage.

“I don’t know, Kagami-kun. I personally feel that it suits him rather well.” 

Kagami follows his stare to a man now standing where Momoi once was; his legs are clad in knee-high boots and fishnet stockings, a black corset wrapped tight around his chest. Kuroko's right. While his face has a soft, pretty quality to it, his narrow steely eyes are bright, scanning the crowd with the sharp cunning of a predator. His sweet smile contrasts with the gyrating of his hips that start when the music begins.

Try as he might to be attentive, Kagami can't help but quickly tune out, watching the dancing but not truly there. There’s a pole that Hawk Eye twirls around for a while, lifting himself clear off the ground with just his legs, and Kagami is able to admire the strength that it requires, but beyond that he’s unable to muster a care. 

Hawk Eyes’ set ends to an explosion of applause, and even though Kagami found the dance itself to be very feminine, especially with his costume, Hawk Eye exits the stage leaving flushed faces and doe-eyes in his wake. 

Kagami claps slowly, bored and wishing he was home eating excessive amounts of popcorn while watching a movie, curled up in a blanket on his couch. It's a complete outrage—he finally has an evening off and he's forced against his will to spend it watching half-naked guys pelvic-thrust for tips. He considers ditching out early, because how bad would it actually be having a story about his college days posted online? It's not like any of the blog readers knew him personally.

Except...didn't Kuroko have a camera on him the night of his great shame? What if he had photographic evidence? No, the risks were far too great. He'll have to stay put, for the time being.

As Kagami stews in self-pity, the hostess appears again onstage, and immediately Kuroko straightens more in his chair, his face clearly eager, his hands balled into fists on his lap.  Kagami vaguely wonders if his best friend has some weird spidey sense when it comes to bangable guys. He tries to refocus his drifting gaze, if only to get a good look at the man they came all this way to see.

Momoi smiles and waves the noise down with her hand.

“Next up, we have someone who is quite new here, yet has already skyrocketed to become the most requested for private parties! Get ready and saddle up, 'cause here comes The Sheriff!”

_What’s with the names at this place?_

Kuroko’s eyes are sparkling as the next dancer steps on the stage. Decked out in old Western clothes, complete with a ridiculous ten-gallon hat and spurs on his cowboy boots, The Sheriff is indeed looking like he runs the joint. The crowd is hysterical, the women of the group overpowering the sounds of everyone else. And Kagami can see the allure. Kuroko’s boy toy is _really_ good looking. A pretty face fit for model, with shiny blond hair and a tall and lean frame, Kagami’s attention is definitely more focused this time around. He swears he can see the man’s long eyelashes from his seat.

A remixed old-country song begins to play, and then The Sheriff is in action. His set is distinctly different than Hawk Eyes’. He only touches the pole once, and that is to hump against it, imitating the riding of a horse. He interacts with the crowd, pretends to shoot his gun at women who swoon, jumps down from the stage to handcuff random audience members and grind against them in their chairs, steadily removing articles of clothing.

Kuroko is rapt, something like a wry smile on his face as he watches on. Kagami finds that he enjoys watching Kuroko’s reactions more than the actual show. After The Sheriff finishes tying his lasso around a nearly hysterical woman, he finally glances over and notices their table. His practiced grin becomes downright carnivorous, and he slinks over to settle on Kuroko’s lap, his hands braced on his shoulders. Immediately, Kuroko's hands are jumping up to run down The Sheriff's bare chest, across his abs to grip his waist.

“Having a good time, Kurokocchi?” Kagami hears the man purr, slowly circling his hips in Kuroko’s lap. Kuroko's face gives almost nothing away, but a longtime friend like Kagami is able to notice the small changes that give him away _—_ he’s both amused and turned on.

Kagami watches, only slightly uncomfortable watching the full-on grinding going on across from him. The two exchange a few more heated words blocked out by the music, and then The Sheriff returns to the stage for the ending of his set. The crowd screams for him to stay, but he winks and then is gone behind the curtain. Kagami glances at Kuroko, whose eyes are glazed, looking totally blissed-out.

“Ok, I admit he's pretty...uh. Photogenic." Kagami concedes, the after-image of Kuroko and The Sheriff's moment of public passion forever burned into his retinas. He leans closer, raps his knuckles on the table once to make sure he has Kuroko's attention. "After all this trouble you’ve put me through, you better be serious about this.” He says, voice low with an unsaid threat. 

Kuroko blinks dazedly, turns his waned awareness to the man across from him. “I'm glad I’ve received your approval, Kagami-kun. I assure you, I have every intention of pursuing him."

Kagami nods, then turns to pay attention as Momoi introduces the next dancer. However, almost as soon as they begin, Kagami truly spaces out. He's barely able to process the next few dancers, his mind at home watching cartoons and raiding his pantry. After what feels like hours, Kagami glances pleadingly at his captor.

“Kuroko, haven’t we stayed long enough? I wanna go home,” He whines, attempting to make his infamous puppy face knowing full well Kuroko’s cold steel heart. Like he expects, he barely gets a glance.

“The show's almost over, Kagami-kun. Just bear with it. Now shush. I believe the next set is about to be performed.” And Kuroko drains the last of his fruity concoction before setting it on the table and giving his undivided attention to the stage. Kagami rolls his eyes and begrudgingly turns to watch as well, given no choice now that his only distraction was also distracted. 

Momoi skips on the stage, her smile wide and excited. It’s as if the crowd can sense something big is coming, because the air buzzes with hormones and enthusiasm, and Kagami’s eyes feel a little less droopy.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our headliner this evening. Please put your hands together, for our one and only….” She pauses for dramatic effect, a small, teasing smile on her lips, knowing they're hanging onto her every word. “The Black Panther!” she announces gleefully, then runs offstage like she had just flung a live grenade among the tables.

The noise from the crowd is astronomical. If Kagami thought they were hysterical when The Sheriff was onstage, it's nothing compared to the absolute chaos this Black Panther brings. When the dark shape emerges from the curtains, Kagami can barely hear his own thoughts anymore. The air is alive with pure elation, and he can't help the way his blood buzzes with anticipation. Hopefully this guy will live up to the hype. 

When the lights glow on, the man is standing up at the top of the stage, his thumbs hooked into the waistline of his sweatpants, his stance relaxed. Kagami's surprised by his casual outfit, not a gaudy costume piece in sight. It is, however, incredibly douchey. Thin white wife-beater, snap back pulled low over his eyes, bright white sneakers below his baggy black sweats.

For reasons he doesn't understand, Kagami’s heart starts to pound the second the music starts up, the thumping of the bass and his pulse in his ears.  He feels enraptured, his eyes glued to the figure as it starts to move. 

Cocky. That's the first word Kagami comes up with to describe his exaggerated lazy movements, the arrogant tip of his chin. He saunters across the polished black stage, his mouth curved in a ruthless grin, bright white teeth contrasting sharply with his browned skin. Kagami feels his thumping heart leap into his throat.

_Oh my god._

The man wastes no time in starting to dance, his hips rolling effortlessly to the lethargic beat of the music.  Kagami knows without listening too closely that the lyrics were at least as filthy as the grimy beat. He’s no performer, but even he can tell that the moves only look easy to pull off because of the dancer’s skill. He alternates between quick movements and slow, teasing rolls of his body. He thrusts his pelvis tantalizingly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth for show, that smirk never leaving his face as Kagami’s mouth goes dry.

_He's probably the hottest person I've ever seen._

As the song progresses and Kagami’s sanity evaporates from his brain by the second, the Panther’s dance becomes even more aggressive. He drops to his knees, sliding his hands across his chest and the front of his pants, only to brace himself against ground to give a few quick, sensual thrusts of his hips to an imaginary lover. The women’s screams are nearly deafening and Kagami desperately tries to bring moisture back to his mouth. 

Completely without his consent, his mind runs on without him. On his bed, underneath that rolling body. His fingers clenching onto slick hips as he buries his face in a sweaty neck, inhaling the musk and listening to the groans of the man on top of him. 

Trying to control his overactive imagination, aware of his scarlet face, he chances a glance at Kuroko, afraid that his inappropriate fantasies are written across his face. His best friend has a way of knowing the exact contents of Kagami’s mind at any given time, no matter how good he thinks his poker face is. But Kuroko is blessedly still watching the dancer, a polite amount of interest on his face, only showing a small fraction of his earlier delight. 

The Panther maneuvers himself back to his feet in a graceful half-flip, points his finger at women in the crowd and winks. He tugs the shirt over his head, keeping on his ridiculously douchey hat as he flings the wife-beater into the crowd.  Kagami takes a sharp breath upon seeing the defined muscles of his abdomen, rippling as he moves.

The man continues on to the catwalk that runs into the tables, making suggestive eyes at the enraptured audience. He pops his body constantly, giving a generous amount of hip thrusts and flipping his body around with practiced ease. The Panther is almost directly in front of their table and Kagami just can’t look away, from the tan skin temptingly glistening with sweat, the lithe but muscular figure—it's like he's staring at the sun but he just can't get his eyes to avert.  Frankly, at this point Kagami feels like the dancer's just showing off. As if reading his mind, the Panther showily backflips off the catwalk into the crowd, the people at the surrounding tables shrieking with glee.

He prowls from table to table like The Sheriff did, giving teasing grinds of his hips against various audience members, turning them into flustered messes. Kagami feels a momentary surge of uncharacteristic jealousy.

He takes these feelings back, however, within half a second as his eyes lock with the Panther's and his heart just about stops. In a strange sense of future intuition, Kagami knows that with this one look he has sealed his fate.

A merciless smirk. Feral, cat-like eyes glinting hungrily at him, Kagami is suddenly struck with dread at the realization that he feels like a rack of lamb laying down at the feet of a lion. He vaguely wonders if his face gives away quite how terrified he is. He’s sure it does.

Feeling cornered, Kagami has no choice but to sit, petrified, as the Panther saunters his way, achingly slowly, until he’s standing right in front of him. Kagami has the chance to breathe deeply, once, before without so much as a warning, he’s bear-hugged, the Panther’s arms wrapped tightly around his middle and lifting him up without so much as a hitch in his breath. Kagami yelps, instinctively wrapping his arms and legs around the dancer like a koala. He knows he is anything but a small man, yet the Panther carries him like he can barely feel the weight in his arms. As he turns around to walk back to the stage, he hoists Kagami up into a more stable position, resulting in his body hanging practically half-way over the man's shoulder. Kagami shoots a panicked glance at his best friend still at the table. Kuroko shows no change in expression from this development except for a very slight widening of his eyes to show his interest and surprise, but otherwise makes no move to help him.

 _Some_ _friend._

Kagami resigns to his situation and lets himself be manhandled like a sack of potatoes to the stage. Surprisingly gently, the Panther lays him out on his back on the catwalk. His warm fingers linger on Kagami’s sides as he leans down close to his face.

“Lay still and be a good boy,” He breathes, hot and wet into Kagami’s ear. He tries not to shudder, he really does, but he is evidently beyond control of his body right now. His heart is pounding erratically, adrenaline making his limbs tremble. 

With a low rumbling chuckle in his chest ( _no, Kagami's stomach does_ not  _flip, thank you very much)_ the dancer leans away as he jumps back onto the stage. He saunters a bit further up the walk, his back to the audience. He gives no further warning other than a conspiratorial grin over his shoulder before his thumbs are at the waistband of his sweats, easing them down to his ankles.

Jesus Christ.

A hot pink thong.

There are no words in Kagami’s mind other than expletives. The garment’s string is enticingly between the cheeks of the most deliciously muscled ass Kagami has ever seen. He bites his lip, has to remind himself that he is vulnerable in front of many people and getting riled up is a bad idea.

As the dancer turns around again, his eyes only on Kagami, he has to wonder what his role in all this is. What could he possibly be doing laying on this stage that requires the revealing of the Panther’s fluorescent undergarments?

His answer comes all too soon, as the Panther quite literally prowls towards him, slips to his knees and hitches a leg to the other side of Kagami's head. Which leaves Kagami's face stuffed directly into his crotch. Vaguely, Kagami hears the delighted squeals of the women in the crowd, but it's like listening to something underwater, out of focus.

Mouth hanging open, he can only stare and endure, arms at his sides stiff as a board, as the Panther begins slowly rolling his hips, thrusting his crotch further into Kagami’s face. He lets out a very manly squeak as the bulge in front of him comes very close to brushing his nose, and he swears he hears the Panther chuckle. He doesn't know if it's physically possible to be any more flushed.  After what seems to be an eternity, the man finally stops his thrusting, removes his leg from the side of Kagami's head, allowing him to sit back up.  

“You can go back to your seat now.” He says, giving a soothing pat to Kagami's shoulder, but is anything but as his voice is trembling with laughter.

Nodding numbly, Kagami doesn't bother standing on his feet, instead scooting on his butt to the end of the stage and sliding off, stumbling with his trembling knees. In a daze, he toddles back to their table and falls into his chair. Remembering Kuroko, he spares a glance over to his so-called best friend, who is turned away from him, his slight shoulders shaking in a rare bout of actual laughter.

“Screw you,” Kagami hisses across the table, his cheeks hot.

“I apologize, Kagami-kun,” says Kuroko, turning back and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “But your face was quite unforgettable.”

He lets out another uncharacteristic snort and covers his mouth with his hand. Scowling, Kagami turns back to the stage just in time for the Panther to give one last roll of his body before bowing to the screaming crowd and turning to leave the stage. He thinks that he catches the man sneaking a wink in his direction before leaving, and the spotlight dims back to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a song in Magic Mike, called "Pony" by Genuwine, and it plays during perhaps the hottest exhibit of on-film male stripping known to man. So imagine Channing Tatum, but it's Aomine. PLEASE WATCH FOR FULL EFFECT. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbIvOf0Xmzo  
> This started out as a Magic Mike AU, but I realized that after the first chapter it shares absolutely no resemblance whatsoever.  
> ANYWAY, this is going to be a slow build. There needs to be TENSION. And CONFLICT. And adorable moments of sugary friendship.  
> I almost never write. But I made this kind of a end-of-summer project, and it was so fun I decided I wanted to make it into a full-length THING. And i want to get better, so please leave comments and constructive criticism in the comments!  
> You can also inbox me at my tumblr, smileyeeyore.tumblr.com.  
> I hope you enjoy! *confetti* (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
> 
> This fic was inspired by gunboot's "Love you (till you're seeing stars and stripes)" I obviously really loved it, and they write stripping (and everything else) 1000% better than me, so you should check it out!


	2. new innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami meets a few new people, including the Black Panther.  
> He's subsequently traumatized.

After the show Kagami follows Kuroko around in a daze.  He can still feel the Panther’s hot chest pressed against his own, recalls the legs he wrapped around the lean hips and finds his mind wandering towards dangerous territory.

Lost in his horny, wistful thoughts, Kagami jams his hip into the corner of a table swerving to avoid a suddenly still Kuroko. He scrambles to right a tiny vase in the middle before it tips over. 

"Ah,  _fuck,_ Kuroko, why're you—"

“Oh, Kise-kun. Your performance was excellent.” Kagami hears Kuroko say softly, and he forces himself to blink the tears out of his eyes and focus. In front of them stands the Sheriff, now wearing casual but still fashionable clothes, his hands clasped in front of him in glee and a smile on his face. Up close he is even more attractive, his eyelashes indeed as long and dark as Kagami suspected. His skin is flawless and his eyes are bright and lively, a natural and healthy flush on his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m _so_ glad you thought so Kurokocchi! I worked really hard, you know!” He says, wiggling his body coyly in a way Kagami finds disturbing. He tunes out as they talk about topics that don't concern him, glancing around at the club, at the people milling around chatting and drinking, secretly hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of a man with tan skin and a smile that could be lawfully considered probable cause. 

He listens in again as he catches a subtle change of inflection in Kuroko’s voice.

“I was very surprised to see Momoi-san and Aomine-kun working here as well. Why didn’t you tell me?” Kagami recalls the charismatic hostess, and finds himself wondering which dancer was this Aomine person. He suddenly feels guilty that he was in wonderland for the majority of the performances. 

“Ah, Kurokocchi, I wanted you to be surprised! I know you haven’t seen them since high school—“ _Jesus, h_ _ow many people went to Kuroko’s high school?_ “—and I thought it would be such a wonderful surprise to see them after all this time! Ah, I know things didn’t end very well with Aominecchi, but I think he’s matured, and wouldn't it be lovely for us all to be friends again? And—”  at this point Kise is finally able to rip his eyes from Kuroko’s face and notice Kagami standing there aimlessly.

“Oh! This must be that friend you were talking about! What was his name again, Kurokocchi?”

Kagami stares at him incredulously, finds himself annoyed that he’s not asked this himself, and opens his mouth to say as much when he feels a sudden weight slung across his shoulders. He looks to his right, at a tan hand dangling next to his face and just like that his body is electric; he feels overly sensitive, like his nerve endings are poking out of his skin.

“Yeah, Tetsu. Please do share your friend with the class.”

He has to look up only an inch or two until he’s met with midnight blue eyes that seem to stare straight through him. His eyes dart down to the man's mouth to watch the tip of a pink tongue glide purposefully slow across his bottom lip, and Kagami forces his gaze back up and away. Trying to keep his cool, he looks to Kuroko for an explanation. He looks very slightly annoyed.

“Aomine-kun, Kise-kun, this is my best friend Kagami-kun. We’ve been roommates since college. Aomine-kun, if you would be so kind as to ask Kagami-kun’s permission before touching him. You are no longer performing.” 

 _This_ was Aomine? The single most sexual man Kagami has ever seen was a friend of Kuroko’s in high school? He knows it’s not the least bit fair, but he feels a little wronged that Kuroko had somehow never shared Aomine’s existence to him, if only in passing.

He swallows as Aomine laughs next to his ear, the sound deep and rich from his chest.

“He doesn't mind, Tetsu. Ain’ t that right, Ka-ga-mi?” The last syllables are breathed right into his ear, and Kagami swallows hard, has to fold his arms tightly across his chest to prevent himself from doing anything rash. The body pressed right next to him radiated heat, and with his unspeakable fantasies still fresh in his mind he can feel blood creeping up his neck to warm his face. 

The next second, an unseen entity forcefully removes Aomine’s arm from his shoulders, and he breathes out heavily with relief. 

“Dai-chan! Listen to Tetsu-kun for once in your life! And stop flirting with everything that moves!”

Kagami looks over, his range of movement finally freed, to see the lovely woman from earlier. Her sparkly show dress is gone and replaced with a sundress, her long hair now pulled back into a ponytail. Her sensual persona has also disappeared— Kagami's currently getting a very mother-hen vibe from her as she holds onto Aomine's wrist, shakes it to emphasize her words.

Aomine groans before pouting, his expression clearly disgruntled. Kagami is reminded of a kindergartner getting put into time-out.

“Awww, c’mon Satsuki. You never let me have any fun. And anything that moves? Don’t you think that’s kinda rude? I mean, have you actually  _looked_ at this guy?” Aomine jerks his thumb over his shoulder, his posture now slumped and grumpy. Kagami feels a little bewildered. 

The woman, Momoi Satsuki, looks over at him for an appraising but not unkind look. She faces Aomine again.

“Yes, yes, Dai-chan. I realize that he’s very hot and dreamy and you want him just _soooo_ much you can hardly stand it, but you need to consider other people’s feelings in his situation! Look at him! He looks scared out of his skin!”

Kagami can’t see himself right now, but he has no doubt this is true. He wonders what happened to the powerful, intimidating man he was before he stepped into this building. He knows he’s acting like a piddling Chihuahua, but he can’t help himself. The pure confidence and sensuality is rolling off Aomine in waves, and Kagami feels like he’s choking on it. Give him a five-on-one basketball game or his restaurant during dinner rush, and his fiery passion strikes fear into the hearts of many. But give him a hot guy and suddenly he's a blushing bride. 

“Huh? Nah, he’s fine! Aren’t you?” The hand returns to squeeze Kagami’s shoulder and he has to turn his head and cough to hide his reddening face. This is bad. He's starting to get frustrated in a way that's making him too hot and itchy in his own skin. He thought he got rid of this hormonal crap when he graduated high school. He glances at Momoi, who’s looking at him piteously.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” But he does step away out of Aomine’s arm, and he pretends he doesn’t hear the whine of protest. As long as he keeps his distance he can hopefully keep it in his pants.

Kise laughs, the sound a little uncomfortable and forced. “Well, let's try to ignore whatever weird thing’s happening here. I say we celebrate this little reunion with a trip to that nice coffee house around the corner!” He chirps.

Immediately, Aomine steps forward eagerly, once again at Kagami’s side. “I want Kagami to go!”

“Aomine-kun, please restrain yourself. That was implied.”

Kagami's having a hard time wrapping his head around the thing that’s going on here. He's not a total idiot. He can tell Aomine is interested in him.

But...they just _can't._

It might have been different if he truly was a perfect stranger, but he wasn't. He was an old friend of Kuroko's, and that meant that however slim a chance it might be, they could meet again. With the lack of anonymity, it's out of the question, no matter how tempting.

And while that surely was the main reason for Kagami's hesitation, there was also something else keeping him from dragging Aomine out of the club into the nearest alleyway. The feeling was on the tip of his tongue. He was having trouble pinpointing what it was, though... 

Kuroko turns to Kise, his face accusing. “You told me that Aomine-kun had matured.”

Kise lets out an uneasy, guilty laugh. “Ah, well, I didn’t say he matured _a lot_ , but don’t you think he’s improved somewhat?”

“I frankly fail to see any difference.”

“Aw, come on guys, don’t be mean, I’m standing right here!” Somehow Aomine had managed to sneakily wrap his arm around Kagami’s waist as the others were talking, and once again Kagami shrugs him off. What was it? Below the obvious buzzing of lust in his brain, there was something else nagging at him. It was unpleasant, making him agitated, and he knew it was something to do with Aomine. 

“No offense Dai-chan, but I don’t think you have the right to tell people what is rude and what is not. And what did Tetsu-kun tell you about touching people you aren't familiar with?”

Groaning exasperatedly, Aomine puts his hands up in front of himself in surrender. “Ok, ok, geez. I didn’t need any more killjoys around here. Satsuki was enough, but Tetsu just had to show up, huh?” He irritably scratches his fingers through his short hair, letting out a big breath. “Ok, fine. Let’s go to this shitty coffee place where you can _babysit_ me. Fucking ridiculous.” 

And then he stalks off towards the exit without another word. Momoi rolls her eyes, and then they all turn towards the doors as a group, following the flow of stragglers out into the warm summer night. Kise glues himself beside Kuroko, chatting his ear off, and Momoi attaches herself to his other side like a leech, leaving Kagami to tiredly trail after them. As he crosses the threshold behind the others, he stops dead in his tracks when he feels a large hand rest on the back of his neck. He knows exactly who it is. He involuntarily shivers, the hair raising up all along his arms.

"Just you wait," a husky voice murmurs into his ear. Kagami is immediately reminded of whispered words onstage not half an hour ago. "Sooner or later, I'm gonna fuck you." 

Ah, so _that's_ it. 

_He's so fucking annoying._

\---

The coffee house is exactly what Kagami expects. A cozy atmosphere, mismatched overstuffed chairs and couches, warm woods that soak in the smell of roasting beans. The five of them are sitting in a sloppy circle, chairs and little tables moved around so that they're all somewhat facing each other.

Kagami doesn't remember a time in his life feeling more awkward. Everyone knew each other, while the only person he knew was Kuroko. Normally he's not one to feel awkward in any situation, being a guy to roll with the punches, but these are certainly extenuating circumstances.

For one, once the group ordered their drinks and he acquired his hot chocolate, he decided to sit on the plush couch. Of course, Aomine chose to sit with him. As close as physically possible. When there was room for at least three more damn people. 

Proximity never bothered Kagami either. But when it was the virtual stranger who just swore to you with all the confidence of a teen heart throb that they were going to ram their dick up your ass, yeah, Kagami felt very....weird. And irritated. He was unable to make any sort of eye contact with the person next to him that was obnoxiously staring and pressing their thigh against his.

He didn't know at what exact point in time during their very short acquaintance that he became ninety-nine percent confident in his ability to suppress his relentless libido. It wouldn't go away, that much was for certain. Unfortunately, Aomine was too hot for that, and Kagami was too weak to deep voices and dark hair.  But somewhere in between watching Aomine dig into his ear with his pinky and wolf-whistle at a couple big-chested girls across the sidewalk ("Oi, Kagami, aren't those chicks hot? Huge tits!"), all while his hand was still glued to Kagami's waist, he realized that his fantasy version of Aomine had been efficiently obliterated. Seeing him exist outside of his stage persona had cleared Kagami's head enough for him to realize that _no one_ , no matter how hot they were, no matter how undoubtedly phenomenal the sex would be, was worth putting up with ten straight minutes of embarrassingly-loud talk about butt-plugs. So Kagami gives himself permission to look, but not touch. He's going to pretend like his dick isn't throbbing uncomfortably, and then after tonight he'll do everything in his power to never see Aomine again.

When he was able to ignore the obnoxious slurping close to his ear, the conversation floating around him was nice. The other four had all gone to the same middle and high schools. Kise, Aomine, Kuroko, and Momoi had all met on their middle school basketball team. Momoi had been their manager, the other three starter players on what seemed to be an excellent team. They had carried on their friendships into high school, but once they graduated the bond had slowly dissolved until no trace of contact remained. Kagami silently mourned the lost years of friendship— the four seemed to get along wonderfully, bantering back and forth and recalling stories from their youth.

"—and then Momoicchi shows up with this "health shake" she made. The color and smell alone are just god-awful, but she insists we drink it, right? Within the next five minutes there is not a single player not in the bathroom puking their guts up. Momoicchi, what did you put in it again? Oh, right! Fish oil, oranges, _ground beef_...." Kise can't continue on as he gasps out laughter, clutching his stomach and tapping his feet on the floor. Momoi is the only one stony-faced among them, her cheeks puffed out in irritation. Even Kuroko fights a wobbly smile.

"Momoi-san, why did you think _any_ of those ingredients would mix well?" 

Momoi throws her hands up in exasperation. "So I misread the recipe! Sue me!"

"Satsuki, c'mon, it's common sense—"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm a horrible cook! I get it! Why don't you bullies find someone else to pick on!"

Swallowing his chuckles and taking pity, Kagami turns to her, trying to smile in a way that was sympathetic. "You know, I'm actually a chef. If you really wanted, I could help you learn some basic cooking skills sometime." 

Kise lets out a dramatic gasp. "A  _professional chef?_  Are you really? Kurokocchi, you never told me your friend was so distinguished!"

Kagami smiles privately to himself, feels that regardless of Kise's obvious and kind of annoying infatuation with Kuroko, he was a good guy, if not a bit loud and flamboyant. 

He freezes when he feels the tip of a nose brush the shell of his ear. 

"A chef, huh? I can see it now—a nice dinner, followed by dessert...whipped cream..." 

Kagami, trying to tell himself that after everything he's dealt with tonight he's immune to Aomine's advances, rolls his eyes as believably as he can. "Uh-huh. That's great. Keep living in your pathetic little fantasy world." 

Aomine jerks his head back. Eyes comically wide, he presses a hand to his heart. "Kagami! Did our walk here mean nothing to you? What changed?" 

Kagami scoffs, hoping that if he keeps his eyes somewhere not-Aomine he'll be able to speak without the devil on his shoulder telling him to crawl into Aomine's lap and suck a bruise into his neck. "I haven't changed. You just never let me get a word in edgewise."

Aomine frowns. "Oh Kagami, you should have told me. I'm a reasonable man, we can work this out!"

Feeling like he's just being made fun of now, and seriously concerned that his rock-solid resolve will crumble, Kagami sips the last of his hot chocolate before rising to his feet. By that point Aomine had been leaning into him, and Kagami's sudden departure causes him to tip over on the couch with a little yelp.

"Well, this has been really fun. It was, uh, nice to meet you guys. You're all pretty cool. Kuroko can give you my number Momoi, just let me know when you want to come over and cook. I have work tomorrow so I better head out."

And with a little wave and pointedly turning his head, he walks out the door, not expecting a clean escape.

He doesn't get one.

"Kagami! Should've given a guy a little warning before runnin' off like that!" Aomine laughs behind him, the tinkling of the bell from the coffee house announcing him before his voice does. He quickly catches up to Kagami with his long legs. He smirks confidently, bordering on impish. "So, your place or mine?"

Kagami forces himself to take a deep, calming breath. Against his deepest wishes, the long-term exposure to Aomine by no means gave Kagami the ability to resist the effects of what he has already dubbed "The Aomine Smolder". He looks away before he becomes pudding, and stops walking. He breathes again, deeply, trying to keep this thoughts in coherent sentences.

"Look, Aomine. Uh, you seem interesting. You're. Uh. Attractive, I guess. And a great dancer. I'll give you that. But you are  _never_ getting _anywhere_ near my ass. Something about you just really pisses me off. I wouldn't mind doing this little group get-together again, but you need to keep your distance." Kagami tries very hard not to sound too gruff. He has a habit of yelling when he's uncomfortable with what he's saying, but he feels like he pulled it off well. The deed was done. Aomine was no way so dense as to misinterpret his rejection.

He chances a glance at him, afraid for the worst, but he's surprised to see grim resignation. Aomine nods slowly, breathing deep through his nose. "Yeah, I respect that Kagami. You're not an easy man, I get it. You're worth a lot more."

Kagami is almost relieved that this went off without a hitch, but then Aomine meets his eyes again, and the breath whooshes out of Kagami's lungs at once when he sees blue fire.

"That's why imma wait for you, baby. " Aomine coos, his hand coming up to brush warm knuckles against Kagami's jaw. He's too shocked to move away.

"I'm a patient man. I'll get what I want, but we'll do this at your pace. Here," Kagami can only stare as Aomine magically procures a pen from his pocket, grabs Kagami's limp hand and brings it in front of him. He scribbles on his palm for a second, and Kagami numbly notes that it tickles.

"This is my phone number. Call me when you're ready for the night of your life. Or when you need some intelligent company, I can do that too. Don't keep me waiting too long, kay baby?" And then Aomine presses a kiss to the palm he just wrote on, meeting Kagami's eyes for a brief moment, before dropping his hand, turning around, and waltzing back into the coffeehouse.

Kagami can only stand, numbly, as he watches him go.

_What an asshole._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! 
> 
> So for the titles of the chapters, I've decided on lyrics from songs I find really sexy. The first one was obviously "Pony" by Genuwine. This one is "Awakening" by Empire of the Sun. It's great. Check it out.  
> Next chapter I'm thinking a little bit o' Aomine POV! He's just such a lovely asshole. I need to intimately feel his mind. It's gonna happen.
> 
> Again, please leave comments and criticism! I want to get better!


	3. all i need is to get in between your sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami really wants to forget. Two meddling elves make sure it doesn't happen.

Kagami doesn’t call him.

He comes to realize that once he’s back in the comfort of his home, his restaurant, his normal day-to-day routine, it’s actually pretty easy to pretend that night didn’t even happen. 

The ink on his hand takes a couple days to completely wash off, but once it does it he finally feels fully clean for the first time since it was drawn onto his hand. 

To put it simply, Kagami didn't like Aomine. 

It went beyond simple annoyance. At first, Kagami was just resigned that Aomine was a bother, like a fly that kept buzzing around his head. Harmless, yet irritating. But the more time he spent in his company, the more Aomine spoke and _pushed,_ made Kagami realize it was more than simply being troublesome. Aomine was obviously a selfish, pig-headed, repugnant man who didn't give a rat's ass what others thought as long as he got what he wanted. Sometimes Kagami wasn't the best judge of character, but even he could tell when someone was to be given a three mile berth. It took a special kind of asshole to leave that bad of an aftertaste in Kagami's mouth.

If that was the worst of it, if he had just happened to meet a very unpleasant stranger by chance, then maybe it would be simple to be on his merry way, that night a distant memory that years down the road he wouldn't be able to recall whatsoever. But no. He doesn't get to be that lucky.

Because what makes Kagami truly angry, what makes him grit his teeth and clench his fists is how pissed he is at  _himself._ Because he  _knew_ Aomine was a complete creep, and he  _knew_ that he was quite possibly crawling with diseases and he  _knew_ that he was utterly intolerable. But that apparently wasn't enough to keep his body from reacting, from _yearning_. Because he's ashamed to admit that even now, weeks later, he'll wake up at night, covered in sweat, body thrumming, vague after-images all he needs to know who was the cause of this mess. 

And it pisses him the fuck off. It was like his anatomy was ready to shove that asswipe against a wall and go to town, before he could even make up his mind if that was what he wanted.

(It wasn't.) 

He didn’t feel like _himself._ He was glad the person causing this had almost certainly forgotten his existence the moment his ass was no longer in clear view. And now the only reminders that the two had even met were his stupid dreams, as well as seeing Kuroko, Aomine's childhood friend, and his new boyfriend that never seemed to leave their house. So, unfortunately, the humiliating shame comes back to pick at his brain too frequently. He could only hope that, with time, it would pass.

But  _pretending_ like it didn't happen is a whole lot different than  _forgetting._ And he can't forget. 

It’s three weeks later when Aomine even comes up in conversation. Kagami is at the stove, slaving away for Kise the bottomless pit, as said man and Kuroko are sat out on the floor in front of the TV. They’re simultaneously discussing possibilities for Kuroko’s future blog articles while watching an admittedly riveting show about the mass production of peanut butter.

Kagami flips off the burners and moves the pot over a bowl, dumping the contents in without worrying about presentation. Kise comes to _his_ home, watches _his_ TV, sits on his fat ass doing nothing but eat and glomp on Kuroko’s face, without helping out with anything in return. Kagami isn’t going to be making anything fancier than stove-top ramen for as long as Kise continues to be a freeloader.

He carries the bowl into the living room where the two are huddled next to each other, Kise’s hand sneakily creeping up Kuroko’s thigh as his boyfriend quietly prattles on to himself.  He writes his ideas on a clipboard of paper, oblivious to everything once he gets going on something he’s passionate about. Kagami unceremoniously dumps the bowl into Kise’s lap, spitefully slapping away the sneaking hand from Kuroko’s leg as he does.

“I get that you’re a stripper, but try to keep from being a pervert when you’re off the job,” Kagami snaps, unable to help himself from folding a napkin nicely out of habit before tossing it on Kise’s head.

Kise pouts, rubbing his hand and reaching for the napkin, blinking at Kagami innocently. “Oh Kagamicchi, don’t be like that! I wasn’t doing any harm!” For emphasis he waves his hand in front Kuroko’s face, who doesn’t even blink as he continues writing. “See? I wasn’t distracting him!”

Kagami rolls his eyes, turns to flop on the couch, intent on learning about the production of peanut products now that he’s not being _someone’s_ personal chef. He really is too kind for his own good.

“That’s not the point! If he doesn't even know you’re even doing it it's kind of gross. Hey, Kuroko. Did you know this guy was touching you?”

Kuroko is quiet for a moment, staring at his paper, before turning to look at Kise, then Kagami. “Would you repeat that?”

“Did you know Kise was feeling you up just now?”

Kuroko blinks, then looks at Kise sternly. “Kise-kun, we are not in private. Please try to keep your hands to yourself around other people.”

And while that wasn’t the point Kagami was trying to make, he still grins at Kise in triumph at having gotten him scolded. Kise pouts some more, lips puckered like a child. “Kagamicchi is so mean! And what you said earlier is wrong too! Just because I’m a stripper doesn’t mean I’m a pervert! That’s stereotypical and offensive and rude—!“ Kise stops mid-breath, gasps instead, and Kagami decides he doesn't like the excited twinkle that suddenly appears in his eyes.

“Speaking of perverts reminded me! Have you talked to Aominecchi yet?”

Kagami chokes on his own spit.

“No! _Of course_ —why would I want—he’s so—!” He can barely get words out in his haste to deny, that _no_ _,_ of _course_ he hasn’t seen Aomine, why would he want to, when he’s desperately trying to forget about that sack of condensed assholery? 

Kuroko sets his clipboard on the floor, and twists so he’s sitting cross-legged, facing his roommate. 

“Kagami-kun, you’re blushing. “

“Wha—! Well, I mean, _yeah,_ wouldn’t you? Remember that…he…he...!” He just can’t say it. He can’t verbally acknowledge that once upon a time he was man-handled onto a stripper’s stage and flirted with shamelessly afterwards—it would be like admitting it made an impression. It was also way too embarrassing to mention, especially with someone like Kise, who he didn’t know like he knew Kuroko, and who also evidently had some sort of friendly relationship going on with the topic of conversation.

Kise laughs and also turns to face him, slings his arm across Kuroko’s shoulders. “Aw, don’t hate Aominecchi for that! That’s just how he is! Kind of a bonafide dick, really. But underneath that obnoxious exterior, is a soft soul who just wants love!” He starts laughing, shaking his head wildly, and all Kagami can do is hope his face isn’t too red.

Kise calms down at Kuroko’s elbow jabbing into his side. 

“Ok, that’s probably pushing it. But really, between you and me…” Kise leans forward conspiratorially, his smile impish. “Aomine’s asked about you at work like, a million times. He knows I’m always here, asks me stuff about you. I think he really likes you.”

Kagami can feel his heart pounding more than it should. Trying to look sure of himself, he rolls his eyes. “You mean he really likes my ass. I’ve barely talked to him, there’s no way he _likes_ me.”

Kise looks thoughtful. Kuroko is staring into Kagami’s face, searchingly, and he has the distinct feeling of being probed.

“Well, I guess that’s true. But, the little that he saw, don’t you think it’s possible he liked it? He told me that he admired your spunk.”  

Kagami actually finds it within him to laugh. “My _spunk?_ In other words, he actually got off on me turning him down? Unbelievable…” Still chucking, Kagami turns his attention back to the TV. He can feel the other two’s eyes on his face.

“Kagami-kun…”

“Yeah?”

“Nevermind.” And then Kuroko leans over to Kise and whispers something in his ear. Kagami really doesn’t like where this is going. Kuroko finds it rude to whisper around company, and for him to do it himself is worrisome.  Kise’s face absolutely _glows,_ and he nods enthusiastically.

“Sure thing, Kurokocchi! One glass of water, coming right up!” And then he springs to his feet, scampers off into the kitchen.

Kagami raises his eyebrows. “You had to whisper to him to ask for a glass of water?”

“My throat is feeling a bit sore; I didn’t want to put pressure on it.”

“Then why are you talking—“And Kagami’s words are cut off by the sound of shattering and a high-pitched scream.

Groaning, Kagami gets heavily to his feet.

“What the fuck did you do _now…”_

 

_\---_

 

“I’m so sorry Kagamicchi!” Kise sniffs, wiping away his crocodile tears.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just watch what you’re doing in other people’s houses.” Kagami grumbles, walking down the aisles with Kuroko and Kise, slowly looking at all the options.

They’re at a specialty plant store, searching for a replacement. The idiot Kise had managed to bump a potted plant off the kitchen counter in his quest to get a glass. Kagami really doesn’t understand how it happened, as the pot was in the middle and there was no way it could have been knocked over by anything less than excessively flying limbs. The plant itself looked like it had been repeatedly stomped on. He doesn’t doubt the idiocy, but for some reason he feels like there was a motive. Kuroko only solidified his theory, walking in the kitchen afterwards, his face carefully placed into an expression of concern. His robotic voice didn’t make him any more convincing. “Oh no, this is terrible. We need to get a replacement right away; I know how much you enjoyed this plant Kagami-kun. We’ll go right now. Kise-kun, get the dustpan and clean this up. Kagami-kun, please fetch the car keys.”

And now here they were. Kagami didn’t protest mostly because of his confusion. He liked the plant, sure. His mom had one like it in the kitchen growing up. But he didn’t understand the urgency of leaving to find a replacement within two minutes of the incident. He felt like something was going on here, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.

Maneuvering around little boys tussling with another, the three stop at a section of blooming houseplants. Kagami is surprised at the variety; the rows of options rise clear above his head, and he actually has to look up to see everything.  He looks carefully at each one, reading the names and trying to remember what his was called.

“Kagamicchi! Wasn’t it something like this?!”

“Put that back, stupid. That’s a cactus.”

“So mean!”

He pauses at a plant that wasn’t in bloom, but the leaves remind him of his own before it was brutally murdered.

“’Brazilian fireworks’…” He thinks the name sounds familiar, and the blooms he can see in the little picture on the tag look the same, so he figures that it’s the one. He turns around to look for Kuroko and Kise, but it looks like the two have gone off on their own. Kagami runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated.

“It’s like I have freakin’ children. I expect this from Kise, but Kuroko…”

He thinks about where to start looking, when he notices the two roughhousing kids from earlier. They have an action figure of some sort, and both of them are viciously fighting over it, screeching and grabbing at the toy’s limbs, tugging and subsequently shoving each other around the aisle. Kagami is almost wistful—he never had any flesh and blood siblings growing up, and he bets it would have been fun to have someone to play with whenever he wanted. The two ram into one of the display racks before spinning off again, and Kagami is about to step in and tell them to knock it off, their mom will be pissed and that’s dangerous, when he notices something else. A large flower pot, at the very top of the shelf, is perched precariously at the edge. The jarring impact from the little boys causes it to start wobbling, and Kagami can see with the momentum that it’s going to fall.

But there’s someone standing directly underneath, their attention diverted to the little punks and not at the flower pot that’s about to fall on their head.

On instinct, Kagami rushes forward.

“Watch out!”

He grabs the person’s wrist, yanking them back just as the pot tips, landing on the tile floor with an ear-splitting crash that hurts Kagami’s ears and jolts adrenaline through his body.

He’s breathing hard like he just took laps around the store, he can hear his pulse in his ears, and he can feel the beat of the other person’s heart as he still holds onto their wrist. He finds that it comforts him.

He takes his hand away, turns to look at them.

“Wow, that was close. Hey, are you o…k…” The the end of his sentence tapers off as his blood runs cold. He's having trouble swallowing, can barely breathe around the lump of dread in his throat. 

Because looking back at him, with his eyes wide in surprise, is Aomine.

“Kagami?”

“Oh my god.”

Kagami knows he’s overreacting. He’s only met this guy once, spent a maximum of an hour in his presence, but all the time he spent trying not to think about him (and failing) the past view weeks makes him feel like Aomine left a bigger impression than he actually did.

He grabs fistfuls of his hair, distraught. “How is this happening?”

Aomine laughs, and then seems to remember what just happened because he snaps his head to look down at the obliterated pot behind him, then at the two boys who are running back down the aisle screaming that it wasn’t their fault. He looks back to Kagami. “Holy fuck, you just saved my life.”

“What? No. No, I really didn’t. That wouldn’t have killed you. It was one pot! It wasn’t even up very high!”

“Kagami, you realize what this _is,_ right? This is _fate_.”

“Ugh, stop it right now. I didn’t even know that was you. I mean, I probably wouldn’t have let it happen even if I did, but, uh, what I mean is that this is pure coincidence. And…what are you even _doing_ here?”

Aomine looks at Kagami like he has a screw loose. “Uh, I _work_ here?” He gestures at his torso, and now that the conversation isn’t about life saving or fate, Kagami can focus enough to finally notice that Aomine is wearing a green apron, the name tag clearly belonging to him, a smiley face sticker on the corner.

“You…you work here? At a plant store?”

“Well, we like to call it a ‘gardening center’, but yeah. I work here.”

“But they sell plants here. And bags of poop. ”

“Whoa, trynna talk crap bout my livelihood? Ha! Get it? Talkin’ crap? Bags of poop? Man, that one was  _on point_ _!”_ And then he’s laughing, doubling over at his own awful joke, and Kagami actually kind of likes his smile when it’s not a smirk. It makes him look more human.

For some reason, Aomine isn't radiating lust like he was the night they met. It's helping Kagami keep his head, and it's helping him keep his body in check. To his huge relief, he seems to be completely devoid of his previous overwhelming impulses. Aomine still looks as good as he remembered, but there's only the subtle desire that he feels for anyone attractive. It's easy to ignore. There's no itching frustration, no tension wound tight in his muscles. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe he had just been particularly wound up that day. Watching a strip show beforehand probably didn't do him any favors either. 

“But I thought you were a stripper?” The word feels awkward on his tongue, foreign in a store that’s full of sunshine and greenery, when it belongs in a dark club with a deep bass pounding the walls.

Aomine smiles again, his patient expression giving the Kagami the impression that he feels like he’s talking to a five year old.

“Yeah, I do that too. But I work here during the day time mostly, stripping only pays so much, ya know?” He grins again, and Kagami wonders what happened to the perverted comments, the leering eyes. Aomine’s just looking at him like he’s run into an old friend. 

But Kagami’s not one to forget first impressions.

“Right. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Uh, I gotta go now.” Then he turns on his heel and walks out the closest end of the aisle, choosing to leave the plant so as to spend as little time as possible hanging around.

“Huh? Kagami, wait!”

He’s bracing for an unwelcome hand grabbing at him, but Aomine just jogs to catch up and walks backwards so he’s facing Kagami, his smile gone.

“Didn’t you come here for something? I can help you look, if you’re having trouble.”

Kagami swallows, tries not to make eye contact. “No, that’s fine. You should probably go clean up that mess. There are sharp pieces.”

“Nah, I’ll get someone else to clean that. So, did you come with Tetsu?”

“And Kise. And now I’m looking for them, which I can do _by myself, thanks.”_

His last words come out sharply, and Aomine finally gets the hint, stopping short. His eyebrows pull low over his eyes.

“Are you mad? Did I do something?”

Kagami sighs exasperatedly. When Aomine’s acting like a normal person instead of a sex god, Kagami finds it a lot easier to speak his mind without getting flustered. This is his chance to get the crummy feelings he’s been trying to push away the past several weeks off his chest.

“Actually, yeah, I kind of am. I think you're annoying. And disrespectful. The thing at the club; ok, I get that, you were performing. But afterwards." Kagami pauses for breath, forces himself to barrel onward. "You wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. After I told you no, you still gave me your fucking number like I was actually gonna call you. You just kept _pushing_ and I hated that. Just because you’re now a ‘gardening center’ employee doesn’t change the fact that you were a complete douchenozzle.”

Aomine looks stunned. His mouth is gaping, opening and closing like a fish, the only thing leaving him air. He finally stutters out a weak laugh. “Douchenozzle? Who taught you to swear? Winnie the Pooh?”

“Ok, that’s it—!”

Snarling, Kagami twirls around and stalks off, deciding he’ll just wait outside for Kuroko and Kise once they get done whatever they’re doing. He’s not going to put up with this bullshit anymore.  

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry Kagami! I’m sorry please wait!”

Kagami doesn’t know why he stops, but all of a sudden his legs aren’t moving anymore, and an imploring is standing Aomine in front of him, his hands waving. “I’m sorry about that, ok? It’s just I didn’t really know what to say and you sounded so _cute_ just now—!” He cuts off when he sees Kagami’s glare.

“And I’m just gonna stop there. Ok, now about the other stuff…” He scratches the back of his head, his face squishing up in concentration, like he’s trying to choose his words carefully.

“I really am sorry, about how I was acting. I know it’s not an excuse, but… after a show, I tend to go in this…uh, my co-workers like to call it a _zone._ Like a raging sex zombie.  I get really worked up, and I usually need to get it out of my system somehow.”

Kagami understands the implications of that and wrinkles his nose in disgust. Aomine catches this and gives a tentative half-smile, guilt written on his features. And then suddenly he looks serious as Kagami’s ever seen a person, looking at him straight on, his eyes burning with sincerity.

“I know I didn’t act like it, but I honestly respect the fuck outta you. You were so good to Satsuki and Kise, just meeting them. They can be a real handful, and I know you’ve been taking care of Kise at your place. And you offered to help Satsuki with her cooking—I know she really appreciated that.” Aomine starts to look uncomfortable, but no less truthful. “At the time, I did just want to bang you. You are _mother flipping_ hot.”  Kagami feels his cheeks warm at the admission—Aomine looks pained at his honesty, but keeps going.

“But you seemed really cool and real. And you’re friends with Tetsu, and I know from experience Tetsu ain’t friends with just anyone. And then Kise kept telling me all these stories about you from when he hangs at your place, and about how fun you are, and I started really wishing that you’d call me. So we could. Uh. You know. Talk.”

Aomine looks downright miserable, scuffing his shoe on the tile, now looking everywhere but at Kagami, face still screwed up. Kagami is blown away. This Aomine and the Aomine from that first meeting, they are night and day. Both are still assholes with a chronic case of verbal diarrhea, but this Aomine isn’t giving off the same predatory vibe as before. He’s still hot beyond words, but he’s also defensively holding his arms, worrying his bottom lip. 

Kagami takes a deep breath. “But you still wanna have sex with me.”

Aomine looks up at him sharply, eyes wide before letting out a guilty laugh.

“Well, yeah. But that’s not something I can help! You’re just so—! Well, like I said before. Oh! Is this about what I said at the club? The ‘sooner or later, I’m gonna fuck you’ thing?” He mimics himself in a deeper voice, and if the situation weren’t so messed up Kagami might have laughed.

"That  _really_ pissed me off," he says slowly, his eyes never leaving Aomine’s face, searching for hints of deception. He finds none.

“Ok, yeah, I admit that was really creepy and I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable,” Aomine laughs awkwardly again. “But I say some weird shit when I’m in the zone. Desperate times, desperate measures, I guess. I mean, I would never force myself on you or anything! If that's what you're getting at. I’m just, uh, really willing? _More_ than willing, actually—but uh, Ikindathinkyou’recoolandIwannahangoutsometime?”

Kagami is miraculously able to decipher the last stream of words on the first try, his eyebrows probably rising nearly into his hairline. “You want to hang out. With me.”

Aomine nods, again looking like he’s very interested in the nearby bag of fertilizer. 

“And you’d be fine doing that, even though we're  _never_ gonna hook up."

A little less enthusiastic, Aomine nods again, his lip between his teeth.  “But, uh, don’t feel pressured or anything. Honestly, I’m kind of an idiot like all the time. It’s just who I am. And I get if you don’t wanna be around that. I probably wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Aomine sighs, looking sorry for himself as he stares at the ground forlornly. Kagami is pretty much used to these looks thanks to Kise, so only feels a tiny ping of sympathy. Like really, really tiny.

Kagami exhales, and for the second time that day he’s found himself with the thought that he’s too nice. “Fine. Next Wednesday is taco night. Kise and Kuroko will be there. You can come. If you hit on me, I’m kicking you out. Bring Momoi, too.”

Aomine's head tips back up so fast his neck cracks, and his answering smile is nothing short of radiant. Kagami feels a lump growing in his throat, and he desperately tries to will it away. “Brazilian fireworks.” He manages to choke out, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat.

“Huh?” Aomine tips his head to the side, looking unfairly like a puppy.

“That’s the plant I’m looking for. Brazilian fireworks.”

Realization dawns on Aomine’s face, and his smile morphs into a cocky grin. “That’s in the aisle we were just in, stupid. Lucky you got me here to help you.” He sing-songs, then beckons Kagami to follow him.

Kagami walks reluctantly behind him, watching the muscles of the broad back before him move under the shirt, and wonder what he’s getting himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title are lyrics from Ke$ha's song "Dirty Love". It makes me want to stomp around in high heels. 
> 
> Also, if anyone actually reads my notes, I lied really really bad about the Aomine POV. It WILL happen, just not this chapter.  
> I hope you like it regardless! Please comment! Let me know if you liked it, what you didn't like, how I can improve! It means a lot to me!


	4. if i had my way with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taco Night looms ever closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hatefuck" by The Bravery. It's probably the most AoKaga song ever.  
> Just a teensy warning that there's a mention of blood for like two sentences, I just wanted to give a heads-up in case anyone would be bothered by that.
> 
> Again, please leave comments and criticism! Honestly, I'm not too happy with how this chapter turned out, so I might change it up a bit later on when I can't stand it any longer.

When Kagami leaves the store with his plant, he sees that Kuroko and Kise are already waiting for him inside the car. Kagami can put two and two together, so when he flings the door open the first thing he does is chuck the pot at Kise’s head.

“Wahh!”

“Both of you are nosy, meddling,  _scheming_ assholes! Kuroko!” Kagami is grimly pleased to see Kuroko’s back straighten, his face working to hide his discomfort.

“Yes, Kagami-kun?”

“This was your idea wasn’t it? To ruin my fucking plant, come here knowing Aomine was working, _leave me_ once I was close enough! Fuck you! Fuck both of you! Get out of my car! I’m not taking you anywhere!”

“Kagami-kun, please calm down. You are acting irrationally—“

“ _Me_? _I’m_ acting irrationally? What about you, huh? I make it clear I never wanna see a guy again and you take me right to him! What’s up with that logic?”

Kagami is fuming. Okay, so what that seeing Aomine wasn't  _that_ bad, and that he even feels marginally better about what happened those weeks ago? He’s still pissed. They didn’t have the right. He feels like his feelings have been completely ignored in favor of this little set up.

He grips the frame of the car, knuckles turning white.

Kuroko sighs resignedly. “Kagami-kun, please get into the car, and I’ll explain myself. No lies, no tricks. I promise.”

Kagami weighs his options. It would take a lot of physical effort to pry Kise and Kuroko from his car. He has no doubt that if Kise is forced to walk home, he’ll whine about it until Kagami is lying on his death bed. Eyes narrowing dangerously, he complies, but not without huffing angrily to let the two know that he’s one wrong word away from driving them all into a brick wall. 

Settling himself against the seat, he crosses his arms and glares into Kuroko’s ice blue eyes in the rear view mirror. He bets himself Kuroko made Kise sit in the front seat to bear the brunt of any rage-induced attacks. He’s unable to make himself feel bad about it.

Once Kuroko is sure Kagami is listening, he starts talking.

“First of all, I would like to apologize. I know you probably feel like your feelings have been disregarded.”

Kagami doesn’t say anything, just narrows his eyes a bit more. Sometimes, Kuroko’s perception is scarily spot-on.

Kuroko wets his lips before continuing. “I assure you, making you feel undermined and micromanaged was not my intention.  Earlier today, I noticed that you still saw Aomine-kun in a poor light. That is understandable, he acted very crudely towards you and I do not blame you in the slightest. However,” he pauses, glancing down at the hands twisting on his lap, the only physical symptoms of his guilt.

“I felt that it would be in your best interest to meet again. I wanted you to have the opportunity to put your anger out on the table, so that you might feel relief. That was my only intention. I am sorry for planning this behind your back. I should have left any decisions regarding seeing Aomine-kun again at your discretion.” Kuroko meets Kagami’s eyes again, imploringly. Kagami glances at Kise for confirmation, who nods back enthusiastically.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Kagami looks at Kuroko again. “You mean you weren’t trying to get me to be friends with the guy?”

Kuroko shakes his head, his fingers not knotted together so tightly now that he sees Kagami’s calmed down.“Not at all. I do feel that the both of you have the potential to be good friends, what with your complimentary personality types, but that was not why I brought you here.”

Kagami nods slowly, his muscles relaxing, his fists unclench. He feels like a deflating bouncy castle.  

"Fine. I believe you." The breath of relief from the two of them is nearly simultaneous. "But never do that again. Like you said, I want to have the freedom to make my own choices.” Kuroko nods solemnly, his eyes closed as if in prayer, then glances sharply at Kise. With a squeak, Kise hastily swears away meddling as well, his hand on an imaginary stack of bibles.

Satisfied, Kagami turns the keys in the ignition, intent on getting home and relaxing after all the tension of the day. But, remembering something Kuroko said causes him to yank them back out. “Hold on a damned second—!” And all at once Kagami is fuming again, twisted around in his seat, causing Kise to whimper and cower against the car door.

“What do you mean, ‘complimentary personality types’? How am I anything like that guy?”

Kuroko doesn’t even flinch.

“Well, taking out of the equation Aomine-kun’s overactive sex drive, you are both brash, passionate, hardheaded individuals. Aomine did not showcase his best qualities the day you met—he tends to become unbearably unpleasant when he’s nervous. “

Kagami wonders what he means by nervous. That word and Aomine didn’t belong in the same sentence. He frowns, but decides not to ask.

“Also!” Kise pipes up, able to find his voice now that he sees that nothing else will be thrown at his head, “I don’t know if Aominecchi included this in his apology, but at the club he’s known to go into ‘the zone’, meaning he makes himself super horny while dancing and then wants to have sex with everything that moves! I know it doesn't make what he does ok, but at least it explains it?”

"Yeah, he told me. But..." Kagami eyes Kise suspiciously. "If you knew why he was acting like that, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Kise smiles at him sheepishly. “I almost never hang out with Aominecchi outside of the club. I forget that he has another side of him that's not always horny."

Kagami actually laughs at that, and even he notices how tired it sounds. He yawns, rubs his eyes briefly. “Ok, fine, you guys are off the hook. I’m going home and taking a nap, and if you wake me up with your loud sex, you die.”

Kise lets out an uneasy laugh, while Kuroko responds with a quiet, “Of course, Kagami-kun.”

And, already feeling like he shouldn’t say anything else but already feeling it rise up out of his throat like acid reflux, says offhandedly, “Oh, and one more thing. Next Wednesday Aomine is coming over for dinner.”

 

\--

 

Lying in his bed an hour later, Kagami reflects that should have just kept his mouth shut. Kise had squealed with glee upon hearing the news, while Kuroko was so unbearably smug Kagami actually felt physical pain. 

“So you two are gonna try to be friends now? That’s wonderful! You used to play basketball in high school too right? You should play Aominecchi sometime, he’s really good, and he would never back down from a challenge! This one time our third year at Teiko...” And then Kise babbled incoherently for the twenty minute ride back to the house, Kagami’s hands clenched tightly on the wheel, trying to tell himself blowing up for the nth time that day was bad for his health.

Rolling onto his side, tugging the blanket closer so it was nestled under his chin, Kagami contemplates the possibility of a friendship with Aomine.

The man had said himself that while he wouldn’t pursue Kagami anymore, he would still be more than willing to have a physical relationship if Kagami was up for it. And even if he made sure nothing ever happened between them, it would still be awkward, knowing that something _would_ happen the moment he gave the go-ahead. It pissed him off that he was the only deciding factor on whether or not he and Aomine danced the horizontal tango.

If he was being honest with himself, he knows that he's never going to be immune to Aomine’s body. His somewhat crappy personality puts a handicap on his sexual appeal, but even when he was at his worst, Kagami still felt himself respond. Aomine’s general idiocy seemed to be the only buffer standing in-between this awkward acquaintanceship and crazy animal sex. He doesn't like feeling out of control like this.

He sighs and rolls over on his back, stretches his arms over his head, liking how freely the air flows into his lungs, and stares up at the ceiling. Since when did he think himself sick about these things? He’s never been an introspective person. He’s supposed to just let whatever will be, be, and deal with the consequences when he gets there.

He decides there’s no use worrying about this now. Aomine would come over for dinner, get bored when there wasn’t anything physical in it for him, leave and never think about about it again.

Feeling a little bit more firm in his resolve, he lets his eyes drift close, listens to the distant buzz of the TV and the quiet voices of Kise and Kuroko, before falling asleep.

 

\--

 

The week leading up to taco night was eerily average. Friday and Saturday Kagami had to work at the restaurant all day. He would wake up at 6:30 am, stumble blearily through the house, brushing his teeth and finger combing his hair into something that didn’t look quite so much like a bird’s nest. Then he’d dress himself and drive to the restaurant to help set up. He would start stewing the huge pot of the soup of the day, bake the bread, take inventory of the freezer stocks to make sure they had enough to last the day. When the restaurant opens for lunch at 11, he’s wide awake, laughing boisterously in the kitchens, teasing his coworkers as he bounces around from one station to the other, sautéing onions and chopping vegetables and drizzling sauce over pasta in a flurry of activity. 

When he’s that busy, poking fun at Kiyoshi for being a giant clumsy tree and intimidating customers who decide they want to try to get a free meal out of him, he finds it’s blessedly easy to forget what the week holds.

He works himself harder than usual, so that when he gets home he’s too tired to stare at the ceiling and contemplate, he just falls onto his mattress and conks out until he has to get up at 6:30 again and repeat. 

During those two days he only sees Kuroko once, passing him nursing a cup of tea in the living room as he stumbles to his room like a zombie after work.

Kuroko, being his own boss, can sleep in however long he wants and can work at his own pace. When he’s working, he coops himself up in his study with his laptop, typing away for hours on end. The rest of the time he tidies up after his toddler boyfriend (who mostly watches TV and sleeps as Kuroko works), and runs errands for groceries and other necessities for their home.

Kise spends his day time with Kuroko, and then in the early evening he kisses his boyfriend and gives a grand wave goodbye before he leaves for the strip club, and doesn't come back until late night or sometimes early morning. He says the times depend on how many private shows he’s requested for. As Kagami flips pans of artichoke hearts, he thinks about how Kuroko must feel knowing his boyfriend gets paid to rub against other people’s junk.

Once Sunday, his day off, rolls around, Kagami is worried that he’s going to start thinking again with all his free time. Fortunately, or as most would see it, unfortunately, Kise cuts his hand open attempting to peel an apple with a steak knife (at this point, Kagami isn’t even surprised anymore) and he spends his day in the ER with Kuroko and Kise, Kise holding a bloody rag to his hand as the three of them play Old Maid waiting until Kise can get stitches. Once they get home, it’s already late and Kagami has time to scrub the dried blood off the kitchen counter before he gets to bed, setting his alarm for 6:30.

His work schedule continues like clockwork the next two days, until his next day off and the day he’s been dreading all week, Wednesday.

He tries not to think about why this day has been looming on the horizon like a dark cloud, and instead when he wakes up, naturally, at 10 am, he jumps in the shower humming as loud as he can to block out his mental processes. He putters around the kitchen, decides to again be nice and make a solid breakfast for Kuroko and Kise. He broils some horse mackerel, heats up leftover miso soup on the stove top. He leaves the fish wrapped up in aluminum foil in the oven to keep warm for the two to sniff out whenever they wake up. He then heads out to get all the stuff done he should have on Sunday. He goes to the grocery store to get ingredients for dinner, picks up Kuroko some vanilla ice cream. He gets gas for his car, runs to the bank to drop off his paycheck before returning home.

It’s not time to start dinner yet, not by quite a few hours, and Kagami feels jittery. He needs something to do with his hands. And even though Kuroko’s kept the place fairly neat while Kagami’s been working, he vacuums the whole house. He Windexes the windows and wipes them down with paper towels. He does the dishes the two slobs left in the sink.  For the heck of it, for the first time in known memory he makes his bed, tucks in the edges and smooths out the comforter. By that point their house smells like cleaning products and it’s immaculate. Kagami is horrified to realize that it looks like he tried really hard to make it look presentable for guests. Guests he could care less about impressing. So in a fit of desperation he haphazardly throws a couple coats on the back of the couch for some carefully staged chaos, and rearranges the shoe rack so that some are laying on the floor by the door, and even sprays Febreeze to get rid of the cleaning products smell, but realizes too late the smell of clean linens is even worse, the house smells too good now.  He then decides to give up (he doesn’t freakin’ care what that jerk thinks), so he flops moodily on the couch and flicks on the TV.

Kise and Kuroko join him within minutes, thanking him for the delicious breakfast. Kagami grunts noncommittally. He’s staring at the screen but not really seeing it—all his brain can process are changes in light. Kagami’s surprised to notice that Kuroko leaves Kise sitting in the lounge chair and sits directly next to him instead, so close their sides are pressed together. He’s confused before Kuroko dusts a fine touch of fingers to Kagami’s shoulder, a short back and forth motion, and Kagami realizes that he’s being comforted. He doesn’t know exactly what vibes he’s sending out, but he knows Kuroko can taste his anxiety in the air. He leans the littlest bit back into Kuroko’s shoulder, letting the warmth slow his heart. 

What was he doing? He was being absolutely ridiculous. It’s not like he was going on a date. Momoi would be there, and so would Kuroko and Kise. He was acting like he was getting picked up for prom. Ridiculous.

He focuses on Kuroko’s soft breathing, lets his wired limbs relax, immerses himself into the show about whale migration patterns. He’s all of a sudden hit with strong affection for Kuroko. Only his best friend of seven years would be able to know exactly what he needed at a time like this, be able to calm him down from his high-strung state until he’s a puddle of mush on the couch. Not caring that Kise’s there, he turns his head and nuzzles Kuroko’s shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispers. Kuroko answers with a soft hum, his fingers running smoothly through Kagami's hair. Kagami gives him a quick kiss on the forehead before turning back to the TV. 

He’s so into the show now that the ring of the doorbell startles him. Surprised at how at ease he feels, he sends a half-smile to Kuroko before standing up and stretching, letting his back crack. He walks to the door, pulls it open.

Like he expects, the two of them are standing on his porch. Momoi’s pink hair is piled high on top of her head, little flower pins dotting the large bun. She looks fresh and adorable in a floral dress, her makeup soft. Her arm is wrapped around Aomine’s waist, who looks like he wants to roll his eyes but at the same time resigned with his situation. He's wearing a light blue button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and slacks. The both of them seemed to try and look nice for this visit. Upon seeing Kagami, Aomine's neutral expression lights up.

“Kagami! I’m fuckin’ _starving._ I need food  _now_.”  

And with that, all Kagami’s worry from the day evaporates so quickly he feels lightheaded, at the same time the worry being replaced with mild irritation. Kagami ignores Aomine, turns to Momoi and grins. She looks like an apologetic mother. 

“Hey. It’s great to see you again. I actually haven’t started dinner yet.  I was hoping you could help me out and I could teach you a thing or two.” 

She smiles, the white so dazzling Kagami feels momentarily blinded. “Oh, Kagami-kun, I would absolutely love to! May we come in?”

He gestures them inside, shows them where to put their shoes, leads them back to the others.

Aomine sniffs the air, nodding appreciatively. “Damn, it smells good in here! Like flowers or some shit. You guys sure know how to live.”

Momoi shakes her head, rolls her eyes. “You’re just unfamiliar to houses that don’t smell like dirty shoes. Pig.”

Aomine shrugs, the insult sliding off him like water on a duck’s feathers. He spots Kise and Kuroko and grins. “Yo, Kise, Tetsu. Long time no see.” 

Kise waves merrily from the spot next to Kuroko, having migrated and snatched it the moment Kagami got up.

“Hello, Momoi-san, Aomine-kun. I’m so glad you both were able to join us this evening.”

Aomine laughs loudly. He strides over to the couch, sits on the armrest, claps a hand on Kuroko’s shoulder. “I see you still talk like the freakin’ Queen.  Haven’t changed one bit, have you?” He tousles Kuroko’s hair, and Kagami can see the very slight twitching of Kuroko’s eyelid from where he’s standing. Knowing this could get ugly very fast, he tries to diffuse the tension by turning to Momoi and talking loudly.

“Uh, do you wanna get started? We're making tacos. The whole process is pretty easy.”

Momoi turns to look at him and gives him a grateful smile. “Of course! Dai-chan, stop terrorizing Tetsu-kun and come help Kagami-kun make dinner!”

And while that’s not what Kagami was hoping for, he figures one more pair of hands couldn’t hurt. He leads both of them into the kitchen, firstly making them wash their hands. He sees Aomine stare at the potted plant on the counter and prays he doesn’t say anything.

He gives the two of them the easiest jobs. He points Aomine towards the cutting board to chop vegetables.

“Be careful with the knife. I’ve already been to the emergency room once this week and I don’t wanna go again.”

He’s relieved to see Aomine start his job without a peep, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He has Momoi help him at the stove, has her add cooking oil to pans and stir the ground beef as Kagami takes care of everything else.

He takes a moment to breathe, listens to the sounds of sizzling vegetables in oil, the smell of warmed corn tortillas. He looks at Momoi, and smiles. “See? You’re a natural. A little practice and I’ll have some real competition around here.”

Momoi looks positively touched, reaches out to put a little hand on Kagami’s shoulder. “You are so kind, Kagami-kun. Oh, that reminds me…” she glances over her shoulder at Aomine, who’s still focused on his chopping. Kagami finds himself impressed at the dedication. He assumed Aomine would be complaining by now, bored out of his mind.

She leans in close, her mouth is right next to Kagami’s ear. He sees her standing on her tip-toes and slouches closer to make it easier on her.

“Thank you, for giving Daiki a chance. It means a lot to me. I think that if you got to know him, you two could become good friends,” she whispers. Kagami feels a sense of déjà vu, reminded of the same thing said to him in the car outside the plant store. “There is honestly so much good about him.  I love him to death, so I might be a little biased, but it’s true. There has to be something you can find to like as well." And Momoi laughs, the sound soft and especially muted with the noises of the kitchen.

Kagami swallows, looks into her hopeful eyes, and finds he doesn’t feel the need to disagree.

He whispers back, equally quiet, “I promise I’ll try.”

And that’s all he needed to say before once again being blinded by a smile.

 

\--

 

The rest of the cooking goes off mostly without a hitch.

There was a moment where it was a little touch-and-go about whether the refried beans were going to be ok, after Momoi misheard Kagami’s instructions and added twice the amount of salt that was called for. After calming her down, Kagami ended up having to double the batch. It added a bit of time, but Aomine didn't throw any hunger tantrums so the mission was ultimately considered a success.

He shoos the two helpers out the kitchen to talk with Kuroko and Kise as he sets the table. He puts the enormous containers of meat, rice, beans, and toppings on the kitchen counter, along with a salad and bowl of tortilla chips. He fetches glasses from the cabinets, fills them with ice water, sets them on the table. He then goes and calls everyone in from the living room.

They file in, Kuroko and Kise looking amazed with the spread in front of them, Aomine and Momoi’s faces pleased that they had contributed to this feast.

“Everything looks wonderful Kagami-kun.”

“Yes! And oh! It smells heavenly!”

Kagami laughs, surprises everyone by hooking his arms around the necks of his helpers. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without my little worker bees here.” He gives a firm pat on the back to both of them. Momoi giggles, her hand covering her mouth, while Aomine looks like he’s pouting. Kagami thinks that he sees a little pink underneath the brown of his skin, but writes it off to the heat of the kitchen.

Aomine stares at the counter, his eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, you know I just realized—this is a lot of food for five people.” 

Kagami starts handing everyone their plates to fill for themselves. “Don’t worry about it.”

Both Aomine and Momoi look doubtful.

“Aomine-kun, Momoi-san, please don’t underestimate Kagami-kun’s appetite. And it would be unwise to make bets. Both Kise-kun and I have lost money that way.”

The two take that for what it is, and the group gathers around the counter to make their tacos, scooping rice and beans onto their plates. They all sit down together and the incredulous looks from the two guests follow Kagami, his plate stacked high with food.

“You can’t eat all that. You have, like, twenty tacos.”

“Why don't you mind your own business," Kagami sneers. The group gives thanks for the food, and then he wastes no time shoveling food into his mouth. Tacos go from his hand, fly to his mouth, and then he’s reaching for another one in a matter of seconds. Aomine and Momoi stare on, their faces a mixture of disgust and awe. Kagami’s used to that look, so thinks nothing of it.

“Oh my fucking god,  _Kagami_.” He pauses his chewing to look up at Aomine, whose face is twisted into an expression of such pure pleasure from his first bite Kagami feels his face heat up just looking at it. “This is the best food I’ve ever had. Where have you been all my life?” Aomine doesn’t stop chewing as he groans out his words, and now it’s Kagami’s turn to look disgusted.

“I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question. Try to watch the crap you spew from your mouth. “

“But seriously, Kagamicchi! It’s delicious! Thank you for the meal!” Kise crows. The rest of the group murmurs words of gratitude as well as they continue eating.

The conversation is limited, everyone too busy stuffing their faces. Kagami finishes his plate before everyone else and gets up for more. He’s back in his seat eating with renewed vigor in seconds.

“Ugh, Kagamicchi. It hurts my tummy just watching you.”

He looks up, notices that everyone has finished eating and are all staring at him going at his plate like a man who hasn’t seen food in a month, with expressions all showing various levels of pain. He swallows, clears his throat. “Uh, sorry. You guys don’t have to wait for me. Go in the living room and start a movie or something. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” And he goes back to eating without looking up at the scraping of chairs against the tile.

He does pause, however, at the sound of someone clearing their throat.  Glancing up, he freezes when he sees the kitchen’s cleared out of everyone, except for Aomine.

He’s just sitting there, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Kagami with something like fascination mixed with discomfort.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to eat here.” Kagami growls, swallowing the last bite of a taco. 

Aomine waves his hand. “No, no, please, continue. Don’t mind me.”

Kagami narrows his eyes, reaches for his napkin and wipes his mouth. “I don’t think I’d be able to. You’re getting creepier by the day, Aomine. Congratulations.”

Aomine pouts, uncrosses his arms to lean them against the table. Kagami doesn’t fail to notice that this adjustment brings them closer together.

“I told you that I wanted to hang out. You said we could. So let’s hang out.”

Kagami raises his eyebrows. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past hour? You're here, I'm here. We’re hanging out.”

Aomine sighs, exasperated. He looks down at the table, starts to pick at a groove in the wood. “That’s hardly hanging out. Talk to me, Kagami. Tell me about yourself. “ He looks up again, interest written all over his face.

“This isn’t a date. “

“Jesus, I’m not saying it is!” Kagami is surprised to hear the bite of annoyance in Aomine’s voice, and meeting his eyes Kagami can see that he’s serious. He sighs, remembering the promise he made Momoi. He would try. He would try and make this work.

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

“What are your hobbies? Do you have any pets? How many people are in your family?” Immediately the ire is wiped from his expression and he’s leaning even closer on his arms, his eyes fixed on Kagami's face. Kagami feels himself starting to blush at the close observation. He can’t help but think that those questions _are_ things you would ask someone on a date.

“Uh, well, I like to cook…”

“But that’s your job. “

Kagami scowls at the interruption. “Would you shut up? You said you wanted me to talk. Now let me freakin’ talk.”

Aomine has the decency to look abashed, as he zips his lips and throws an imaginary key over his shoulder. Kagami lets out a big breath.

“Like I was saying. I know it’s my job, but even when I’m at home I like to cook. Uh, I like to play basketball…” Remembering that Aomine used to be in a team with Kise and Kuroko, Kagami watches Aomine as he speaks, watching in slight fascination as Aomine turns red with the effort not to butt in.

“You can talk. Just don’t interrupt me.”

“Oh my god, Kagami, you gotta play me. _Please.”_ Kagami nearly flinches at Aomine’s intensity, his eyes on fire, his fists clenched on the table. The muscles in his arms are twitching, literally itching to move.

Honestly, the thought of playing basketball right now is tempting. But over his dead body will he let Aomine get what he wants. 

“Chill out Lebron. I’m not playing you today. Maybe next time.”

Aomine is disappointed but nods, looking weirdly pleased, then stares at Kagami expectantly. He realizes that he hasn’t answered all of Aomine’s questions.

“Oh, right. Uh, I don’t have any pets. I don’t like animals much. And I’m an only child.” He pauses, thinking about if there was anything else, before tacking on as an afterthought, “What about you?”

Aomine looks plainly delighted Kagami has asked him. “I love basketball. I love it. And I’m the best. You’re serious, right? You’ll play me?”

Kagami growls. “I already said I would. Shut up about it.”

“Right. Sorry. Anyways…uh, I have a hamster? Her name’s Coconut. She’s a fuckin’ bitch. I pick her up and she bites me. So I mostly let her sleep. I put her in a hamster ball to roll around for exercise, ya know? You just can’t touch her or she flips. Look at my finger. See this scar?” Kagami leans closer, sees a microscopic bump of scar tissue on Aomine’s index finger. “From the little bitch. I can’t stand her. But Satsuki gave her to me, and she’ll get suspicious if she dies. So I just gotta wait it out.” Aomine pauses, glaring at a spot over Kagami’s head. Probably fantasizing about murdering his hamster.

“And I’m an only child too.” He says belatedly. He looks back at Kagami. “But I’ve known Satsuki since I was little. She’s been with me through everything. So she’s basically my sister.” Kagami’s heart thuds, seeing the naked affection on Aomine’s face, the soft smile. It's nice. He wouldn't mind seeing it more often. 

“I have someone like that. Tatsuya.” Kagami looks away as he feels Aomine’s eyes turn to burn into his face. “I haven’t seen him in a few years. He moved away for college; he’s still in graduate school. But I grew up with him, learned how to play basketball with him.” He can feel himself smiling, reaches subconsciously to touch the ring hanging from his neck. “I’ve always considered him a brother. So I get what you’re saying. About Momoi.” Embarrassed, Kagami won’t meet Aomine’s eyes.

He hears Aomine exhale. “We’ve got a lot in common, Kagami. You’re an interesting guy.” Kagami glares over, ready to tell him to stop flirting , but there’s nothing coy about Aomine’s expression, looking at Kagami like he’s truly fascinated, and he wonders if when he’s around Aomine his blush is going to be a permanent fixture.

Nodding, seemingly satisfied with their conversation, Aomine stands up, stretches, and Kagami fights with himself not to look at the strip of skin that shows below his lifted shirt.

“Let’s go watch a movie.”

That smile again. Kagami gets up, dazed, mumbling about dishes, starts to gather everyone’s plates to wash. Aomine starts helping without even having to be asked. Kagami reaches his own plate, and notices numbly that he didn’t finish his food. While he and Aomine had been talking, it had gone cold.


	5. hold it down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami finds himself with a household pest.

On Kagami’s next day off, he comes home from errands to find Aomine Daiki sitting on his couch, eating from a bag of barbecue chips and watching a basketball game on TV.

At first, Kagami thinks he’s hallucinating. He rubs his eyes, squints again, but he’s still there, feet propped up on the coffee table like he does this every day. Kagami stands there, mouth opening and closing, and finally is able to choke out, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Aomine’s eyes don’t leave the TV, just raises his hand and beckons Kagami over to the spot next to him on the couch. “C’mere and watch this. The Heat is gettin’ _murdered.”_

Kagami doesn’t move, the shock wearing off and steadily getting replaced with anger. “Aomine. How did you get into my house? Did you break in? Don’t think I won’t call the cops on you.”

Aomine sighs, looking for all the world like he’s the victim. He finally tears his eyes from the TV. “Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Kise told me about the key under that rock outside. So I technically didn’t break in. Happy?” He turns back to the TV like this is a sufficient answer. Kagami’s lip curls and he walks until he’s standing directly in front of the TV. Aomine leans in his seat, trying to watch the slivers of screen that aren’t blocked by Kagami’s body.

“Kags, I can’t see! The Spurs just got the ball!”

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second, just because you had a key doesn’t mean it’s not breaking in. And third, what the hell are you even doing here?”

Aomine stares at him, incredulous. “Uh, hello? I’m here to collect.”

Kagami’s scowling, arms crossed across his chest. “Collect what? I don’t owe you anything.”

“Kagami, Kagami, Kagami…” Aomine shakes his head, tsk-ing, and Kagami wants so bad to just stride over there and smack him across the face. “Last time I checked, you owed me a basketball game.”

Kagami’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “You broke into my house to make me play basketball with you? It’s my day off, Aomine. I got stuff I need to take care of.”

Aomine throws his head back, groaning. Kagami half expects him to start stomping his feet on the floor. “But I wanna play _now!_ I got dressed for it and everything! I brought my basketball! All I’m asking for is one _measly_ game! Then you can come back here and jack off to Food Network for as long as you want!”

Kagami’s starting to realize that arguing with Aomine is taking up way more time than this potential basketball game would take. He doesn’t want to agree mostly because he doesn’t want to give Aomine the idea that as long as he begs hard enough, throws a big a tantrum as humanly possible, Kagami will bend over for him whenever he wants. But it’s a nice day outside, warm for October, and his legs have started itching from lack of activity.

“Ugh, fine. But just one, and then you can’t bug me about it anymore. And I’m telling Kuroko that you broke in.”

Aomine actually looks scared for a moment, but then he considers the trade off and his face clears into pure joy. He stands up, brushes crumbs off his shirt. Kagami has to curl his fingers into his shorts as his hands want to wrap around Aomine’s neck and throttle him.

“It’s about time! Go get changed, I’ll be waiting outside.”

And then he marches off, flings the door open with more force than necessary, and steps out.

Kagami sighs, pads into his room to change. Pulling his shirt over his head, he starts to feel tingly. This rush that only comes with cooking, and even more powerfully through basketball. He’s ready to play hard and knock Aomine on his ass.

\--

They walk to the park together, side by side on the sidewalk. Kagami tries to make sure their arms don’t brush but the effort is futile, as Aomine likes to swing his arms and Kagami swears he ‘accidentally’ brushes his butt like four times.

They end up at the sports court, and Kagami sets down his bag. The court is completely empty, save for a few little black birds pecking at what looks like French fries in the corner. Kagami looks at Aomine, meets his eyes, and he feels a shock of electricity shoot through his body. Aomine’s expression is entirely focused, his eyes narrowed as he sizes up his opponent, and Kagami feels no shame in doing the same. Both of them are feeling this pull, this need to move. Without a word, they both step to half-court, Aomine bounces the ball to him and Kagami stands there, dribbling, watching Aomine watch him.

“First one to thirty.”

And then they’re off. At once, Kagami’s body feels on fire, his lungs working hard to pull in and expel air. He feels like he was missing a piece of himself, now it’s reattached and he’s complete. The tingling is spread throughout his whole body, making him feel more alive than he has in a long time.

And Kise was right. Aomine’s good. Really good. And completely ridiculous. His shots are insane and seem to defy the laws of the universe. He formlessly shoots with one arm mid-air, only to look completely unsurprised when it goes cleanly in the basket, allowing himself a short smile of victory before focusing again on Kagami.

Kagami doesn’t just roll over for him, either. While the shots he makes are a bit more by the book, he plays aggressively, moving by instinct. At one point he fakes so hard Aomine nearly tips over, and the triumph he feels as he dunks is unlike anything he’s ever felt.

They run back and forth across the court, dunking on each other ferociously. A group of kids stop at the fence for a few minutes, clinging to the wire with open admiration before grudgingly moving on. They only think about stopping when the sky starts to let out a faint drizzle, and only when it starts to genuinely rain when Aomine’s at twenty-four and Kagami’s at twenty-three do they stop.

Aomine’s chest is heaving with the strength of the breaths he pulls in. “When was the last time you played again?” He asks as he walks to their bags, under the slight cover of a large tree.

Kagami’s bent over, hands on his knees, wheezing and cursing himself for not being more regular with his exercise because he’s going to be hurting tomorrow. He straightens up to follow.

“Uh, well, I haven’t played competitively since high school. I do pick-up games sometimes; I bring Kuroko with me and we play whoever’s here.” He shrugs, trying to control his gasping, and bends over to dig his water bottle out his bag. Not caring that it’s wet, he plops down on the concrete and leans against the fencing, tipping his head up and letting the cool water drops fall on his face. Aomine sits next to him, his breath a lot more under control.

“You’re pretty good. I guess.”

Kagami rolls his eyes.

“Please. Five more minutes and you would’ve been begging for mercy. And how are you not exhausted?” Kagami says, trying not to sound bitter. Aomine laughs anyway, gives him a quick look from the corners of his eyes. “You’re kidding, right? All that dancing I do? It’d be embarrassing if I wasn’t in good shape.”

Kagami lets out a sound of acknowledgement. “Ohhh right, I almost forgot. Stripper.”

“How could _you_ forget?” And Aomine’s waggling his eyebrows and Kagami knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“Never bring that up again.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Kagami sighs, closes his eyes against the rain, not caring that he’s going to be soaking wet. The water feels good on his heated skin and Kuroko’s not here to mother him, so he’s going to enjoy this.

“But that reminds me. I get that you have that gross ‘zone’ thing,” Kagami says, trying to keep his voice quiet. He can feel Aomine looking at him, but finds that when his eyes are closed it’s easier to speak his mind. “But it’s one thing being horny and being a completely different person. The night we met, you were honestly one of the most unbearable people I’ve ever met,” he pauses, hears Aomine let out a quiet, “Gee, thanks.”

“But at the plant store. And last Wednesday. You were almost…tolerable.” He laughs to try and soften the blow, but doesn’t hear anything next to him. He opens his eyes a crack to see Aomine looking down and away, a wet leaf in his hands that he’s tearing to pieces. “I guess I’ve just been curious about what’s up with that. Do you have split personality disorder?” He tries to joke, lighten the mood. He’s a little surprised that Aomine doesn’t laugh with him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t really see any difference in how I act.” Aomine mumbles, spreads the little leave bits across his palm, swirls them around. He won’t meet Kagami’s eyes.

“Oh, come on. That first day you asked me if I owed a sex swing. Last Wednesday you were cutting up vegetables and didn’t do anything gross with the cucumbers. I don’t get that. I’m not trying to interrogate you, but it’s confusing.”  Kagami’s surprised at himself. It must be the basketball, but suddenly he’s not shy about asking this of Aomine. Taking out of account the exertion from the game, he’s relaxed; his breathing is even, his heart isn’t stuttering, and he’s not shying his eyes away when Aomine finally looks at him.

He looks extremely uneasy and reluctant, but he speaks. “Fine. I guess...I guess I’m trying to ‘behave’.” 

Kagami looks at him quizzically at the air quotes, and Aomine groans.“You freakin’ _said_ I made you uncomfortable. So I tried to, I don’t know, be as less _me_ as possible. I still did a crappy job, slipped up a bunch of times. But I didn’t wanna scare you off, okay? You said I couldn’t flirt, so I didn’t.” Aomine pouts, his lower lip sticking out, and his cheeks are definitely pink.  He looks embarrassed out of his mind. Kagami figures he can stand to be the flustered one for once.

“Remember how I said that I thought you were hot? Well, believe it or not, hot guys make me nervous. So I get like ten times worse than usual. The stuff just comes out like puke." He shifts uncomfortably, stares at his leaf bits with a sour expression. "When I saw you again at the store and last Wednesday and stuff I had kinda gotten used to seeing you. So I was sorta able to control what came out of my mouth.”

Kagami suddenly recalls what Kuroko said to him in the car, about Aomine being nervous. Never in a million years did he think he meant that he gets butterflies around attractive people and subsequently becomes an enormous ass. He almost finds it endearing.

“And just so you know, it kills me that I can’t say anything about how killer you look right now. Oh. Well, I guess I just did. But, like, honest to God, you looked so hot playing basketball, you have no idea.” His face is indeed looking like he has a bad case of gas, and he wipes a hand down his face, smearing together rain and sweat. "So if I start slipping, let me know. Being around you a lot, I might forget to be good.” 

And then he turns to dig his own water bottle out of his bag, drapes a towel over his head, and watches the birds hop around in the rain.

Kagami is a little speechless. He’s finding out all these things about Aomine, and honestly, a lot of them aren’t bad. He’s obviously always taking to heart what Kagami says, respects his space when he asks, tries to do whatever he thinks Kagami would want the most. Plus, he’s an amazing basketball player and that game was the most fun Kagami's had in months. He could stand to play with him again.

Kagami sighs, stands up, slings his bag over his shoulder. “Eh, what’s some harmless flirting among friends. But go overboard, and I _will_ kick your ass.”

He starts walking towards the sidewalk, looks over his shoulder at Aomine, who’s staring after him with his mouth hanging open and his eyes the widest Kagami’s ever seen them. 

“Well, come on. You’re gonna catch a cold and Kuroko can’t have any evidence we were sitting in the rain.”

Kagami doesn’t wait, but he can hear Aomine scrambling to get up and run after him. He smiles to himself. Yeah, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

\--

Kagami lets Aomine use their shower, and figuring they’re about the same size lends him some clothes before showering himself.

When he gets out, rubbing the towel through his hair, Aomine’s laying spread out on the couch, arms behind his head and eyes glued to the screen again.

“Who’s winning?” Kagami plops into the lounge chair, lets the towel hang around his neck.

Aomine snorts. “Who do ya think? The Trail Blazers are fucking embarrassing."

“Mmm.”

Kagami looks at Aomine’s tall frame, thinks about how weird life is. If you told him two months ago that that one nasty stripper was going to be laying on his couch, wearing his clothes after they played basketball together and talked in the rain, that they were now somewhat friends, he would have asked what you were smoking. But now here they were, watching basketball on TV together, and Kagami isn’t freaking out in the slightest.

He looks at Aomine closer, squints a little. “Uh, Aomine. Where the fuck is your armpit hair?”  

It was true. Staring at Aomine lying on the couch has resulted in noticing that Aomine was like one of those weird hairless cats.

“Huh?” Aomine glances at said smooth armpit, looks at Kagami and laughs. “What of it? You got somethin’ against guys with no armpit hair? Isn’t that sexist?”

Kagami was not about to be lectured on societal norms with Aomine. He shakes his head, flustered. “What? No! I just, uh, why?”

“I think the real question here is why are you observing other people’s armpits? I thought you were all about personal space. I feel violated.” Aomine pretends to curl up in on himself, giving a fake whimper.

Kagami rolls his eyes. “Just answer the question.”

Aomine rolls back onto his back, again watches the TV. “You’re no fun. Fine. I get it waxed for work. Chest and legs too.”

Now that Kagami looked closer, Aomine’s legs are smooth as well. He can’t help but think it looks very soft. “For work? Why would they make you wax your body hair to work at the plant store?”

As he’s trying to figure out the logic for this, Aomine lets out a huge laugh, his eyes pinched shut and head thrown back on the armrest. Kagami pouts, not getting what’s so funny.

“Holy crap. And they say _I’m_ an idiot. No, dumbass, not the plant store. The _strip club.”_

Kagami feels his face heat up. Now that it’s said, the answer had been painfully obvious. “Shut up,” he mumbles, turns away and looks at the screen as well, his face undoubtedly cherry red. He thinks he hears a whispered, “ _Fuck, so cute_ ”.

“What was that?” Kagami snaps.

“Nothing, nothing!” Aomine puts his hands up innocently, his contrasting smile wide and devilish. “Oh, and to answer your question. Unless it’s your shtick, no one likes to see hair. It’s distracting,” Aomine says, looking at Kagami, who turns back to him again, confused.

“What do you mean, your ‘shtick’?”

“You know, like your _thing._ Your gimmick. Like Kise does variations of cop stuff and I’m obviously that really hot thug-next-door.” He smiles cheekily, laughs when Kagami rolls his eyes.

“Some guys are popular because of their hair. Like really hairy, really beefy, carry a woman over his shoulder, that kind of thing," he explains, his arm hanging over the side of the couch, drawing designs in the carpet.

Kagami makes an “O” with his mouth, makes a hum of understanding as Aomine continues.

“It's really popular in the gay community. You ever heard of the term ‘bear’?”

Kagami shakes his head.

“Of course you haven’t. But like I was saying, it’s this big hairy man preference. A lot of guys dig that stuff. We get tons of people who come to the club for it.”

“I don’t remember anyone like that.” Kagami says, thinking back to that night. He knows he spaced out for most of it, but he feels like he would have noticed someone like that. Aomine shakes his head.

“Nah, Nebuya wasn’t working that night. But you should see him. Totally massive, totally hot.” Aomine sighs wistfully, his eyes unfocusing as if reliving a memory. He winks. “Now that’s one night I’m not gonna forget anytime soon, if ya catch my drift.”

Kagami makes a gagging sound. “Fucking gross, that’s too much information.”

Aomine laughs. “So, do you like them?”

“Like what?” Kagami asks furrows his brows. 

“My nice smooth armpits. I couldn’t help but notice you staring.”

Kagami knows he set himself up for that one, mentally kicks himself. He knows he’s still red. "Oh. Erm. They’re fine. I don’t care either way,” he mumbles, refuses to make eye contact.  Aomine hums.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your sexuality?”

Kagami looks at him sharply. “You really have to ask?”

He shrugs. “I don’t like to assume.”

Kagami doesn’t believe this. Who’s he even talking to right now? 

“I'm only into guys.” He says, watching Aomine's fingers move through the carpet fibers, almost hypnotically.

Aomine nods in understanding.

“What about you?” Kagami feels obligated to ask; of course he’s not interested in the answer. 

Aomine considers this. 

“Dicks are great. Boobs are great. But asses are fucking _awesome_ and everybody’s got one.” He smiles at Kagami, gives him an appreciative look. Even though Kagami’s butt is completely covered he suddenly feels like Aomine can see it. He shifts in his seat.

“Right…”

“Hey, Kags?”

“What did I tell you about calling me that.”

“Whatever. Kagami, I’m really hungry. Do you think that maybe you could whip up a really itsy bitsy bit of food? I think I might die. See? I’m shaking. My blood sugar level is so low. Help…me…” and then he rolls off the couch, slumped on the floor in a lump so pathetic Kagami can’t help but feel pity.

So, ignoring the coughing and gasping dramatic piece of trash on his living room floor, he heads for the kitchen.

“Just so you know, this is a one-time thing, so you better not get used to it.”

\--

November hits, and Aomine is eating Kagami out of house and home. It doesn’t matter if he switches around his days off, Aomine somehow always finds out when they are and shows up. Most days, when Kagami wakes up he’s already in the living room, eating a bowl of cereal, folded into the lounge chair. Some days Kagami will go do his errands and Aomine will be there when he gets home, always greeting him with a basketball challenge and a request for food. Kagami feels like he made the mistake of feeding a wild animal and now it’s dependent on the care of humans. He wondered how Aomine ate before they met. He guesses Momoi, and Kagami plans on calling her soon for advice on how to appease the beast.

Today is one of the days when he’s already lying out on the couch talking to Kise and Kuroko when Kagami wakes up, eating a bowl of some snack food as the three watch basketball. Kagami scowls at the perky, “Sup, Kagami!” and slouches into the kitchen, needing coffee before he can deal with anything today. He hears the quiet steps of Kuroko behind him. He groans and bends over against the kitchen counter, his head pillowed on his arms.

“Kuroko, we really didn’t need another Kise. We’re not gonna have enough food to last the winter.”

He hears a quiet huff behind him, Kuroko’s signature laugh, and a hand presses softly into the small of his back. He turns his head on the counter and watches as Kuroko reaches up to get two mugs out of the cabinet.

“I’m sorry to be so unsympathetic, but there’s really no one you can blame but yourself, Kagami-kun.” Kagami straightens, gasps in outrage.

“I didn’t ask for him to be here twenty-four seven! How is this my fault?”

“Well, you’ve never really told him to leave, have you?”

Kagami pouts, watches as Kuroko pours coffee into the mugs. He decides to be helpful and fetches milk from the fridge.

“Well….no. But he has the worst kicked puppy face ever. Worse than Kise’s. And he’s fun to play basketball with. And his New Leaf town had peaches and I really wanted some.”

He frowns at the coffee machine, brows furrowed. Since when did he become such a softie? Aomine wasn’t a stray dog. He _could_ feed himself, if he needed to, but Kagami seemed have reached a point where he had trouble telling the man ‘no’. He knew that was a very dangerous place to be in.

He gets another pat on the back from Kuroko, moves over so the other can add the milk and sugar.

“Unless you plan on doing something about him, I don’t want to hear a single complaint. Besides, I feel that you truly enjoy his company.”

Kagami can’t find it in himself to deny this, but it burns his stomach as he tries not to start spewing lies about he can’t stand having Aomine around and that he wishes he would stop coming over. It’s gotten to the point where the house would feel empty and cold without hearing Aomine’s belly laugh echoing around every corner.

“Kagamiii! Can you make me something with lots of fiber?  I’m constipated!”

“I can’t believe this. I’m a single mother. I'm whipped.” And he braces his hands against the counter at this revelation, his head hanging. Kuroko hands him his coffee, a soft smile on his face.

“Don’t worry. He is too.” And then Kuroko leaves with his mug for the living room. Kagami stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter taking careful sips of his coffee, and wonders what that means for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kagami and Aomine are growing closer! And now they're, dare I say it, FRIENDS? I just really love everyday interactions between my OTPs, I love reading about how they interact on just any given day, so that's mostly what this chapter is. Casual days, casual conversations, cute boys. In case anyone was wondering, all the characters in this AU are around 25 years old. 
> 
> "Dare" by The Gorillaz.  
> Again, please leave comments and criticism! 
> 
> And I wanted to thank everyone that HAS left a comment to tell me what they think of the story and to give advice, it has helped me so much and I'm so grateful. So, thank you!


	6. my body is your party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time and Aomine's going to get a stocking full of coal.

Aomine starts calling him Taiga in December.

It sounds so natural coming off his tongue that Kagami doesn’t even realize until hours later, when he’s brushing his teeth for bed.  He also realizes he doesn’t mind.

Kagami begins going to Aomine’s apartment. It's basically the same as hanging out at his house - he still makes them both food, it's just in an environment that smells like a men’s locker room. Aomine's apartment is only a few blocks from the strip club, and also very close to a park that has a high-quality sports court. They play for half-hour bursts, cool down laying on the frosty grass, then continue until both their legs are noodles and the cold has numbed their ears.

Kagami’s standing at the stove in Aomine’s apartment. Momoi’s there too, sitting at the kitchen table watching Kagami cook while nursing a cup of hot peppermint tea, and they talk together about nothing and everything. Aomine lays flat on his back on the carpet in front of the kitchen entry way, so he can be lazy and still be included in the conversation at the same time. During Aomine’s free time Kagami’s found that he only has two modes: laying down unmoving or sprinting ahead full speed, no in between.

“So how’s the club?” Kagami notices the roiling boil of the water, dumps in the giant bag of noodles and stirs it around. The pot is massive to accommodate all the food needed to satisfy the enormous appetite of Kagami, and the lesser stomachs of Aomine and Momoi.

“Hmmm, same old, same old I guess. We got a new bartender recently. He’s cute as a button! But he apologizes way too much.” Momoi shrugs, smiling, and takes another sip. Aomine groans as he sits up on the floor, looks to Kagami.

“Taiga, I’m so _hungry_. Is it ready yet?”

“Nope. And it will never be ready if you keep asking.” Kagami checks on the sauce, preheats the oven and crosses over to the counter to prepare the garlic bread. Aomine slowly gets to his feet, pads into the kitchen and stares into the steaming pot.

“Those noodles look like little penises.”

“You need to get out of my way. Go sit with Momoi.” And he grabs Aomine’s shoulders, propels him towards the kitchen table. He plops into a chair, his limbs spread all over the place, and pouts.  

“Can I at least have a snack?”

“No.” 

And then Aomine grumps for the next next twenty minutes until he has a plate of food set in front of him, and he smiles to them both graciously as if he hadn't just been acting like an enormous infant.

They start eating, the scraping of silverware against plates, and Momoi makes a sudden noise. They look over to her, at her hands waving in the air, and they wait for her to finish chewing.

“You guys, I just realized, it’s almost _Christmas!_ ”

Kagami smiles at her patiently, while Aomine snorts through his mouthful. 

“Uh, no freakin’ _duh._ Have you been living under a rock?”

Momoi’s lip curls, narrows her eyes at him. “That’s disgusting, Dai-chan, don’t speak with your mouth full.  And that’s not what I’m talking about! Kagami-kun, you used to live in America right?" 

He swallows down his large bite, licks his lips before replying. "Yeah, in California. Why?"

"See, I've always wanted to experience an American Christmas! Like, I want to get an actual live Christmas tree, and I want to decorate it and open presents on the twenty-fifth! So I was hoping that we could pick a day and all go look for Christmas trees together!”

She's practically sparkling, looking to the two of them eagerly.

Aomine grunts as he shovels more food into his mouth. "You just want to have an American Christmas cause you don't have a boyfriend to spend Christmas Eve with." 

"Dai-chan, shut up! That's not true! Is it so wrong that I want to try something different this year?" 

Kagami looks thoughtful; Aomine continues eating like she never said anything.

“I think that’s a great idea. I haven’t had a Christmas tree in years. It would be nice to have one for once.”

Momoi beams at him, rips a bite out of her garlic bread.

“It’s settled then, we’re going!”

“Oi, practice what you preach. Hypocrite”

And Momoi sticks her bread-laden tongue out at him. Kagami crinkles his nose and laughs, glad to have such lively company.

\--

The next week they drive a few miles out of town into the country, until they manage to find a real tree farm. Momoi has a friend that lends them a trailer they hook up to the back of Kagami’s car, big enough to stuff two Christmas trees.

There’s a surprising amount of people at the farm, families with kids running around between the trees. The owners sit at a small stand at the edge of the gravel parking lot, giving out free coffee and hot chocolate in the bitter cold.

Kagami shoves on his gloves, sticks a beanie on his head far enough to cover his ears and steps out into the wintry air. Immediately his lungs burn; it stings his cheeks. The other four pile out of the car, Kuroko and Kise wasting no time joining hands.

Kagami walks to the stand, borrows two saws. Then he waves them all to follow him and they walk into the trees. The pines steadily get taller as they walk farther in, and Kagami knows that the taller it is, the more expensive it will be and it’ll be more difficult to get into his house.

“We should split up and look around for a couple we like. Try to all agree on one. ” He looks at everyone for confirmation, knowing immediately who’s with who, as Momoi has already latched onto Kuroko’s arm with Kise holding his hand on the other side. Which leaves him with…

“Taiga! Let’s get crackin’, it’s cold as _fuck.”_ Aomine breathes on his gloved fingers for emphasis, looking rather pleased for all the complaining.

“Of course.” Kagami rolls his eyes, sighs resignedly, looks at the other three.

“When you find a tree, cut it down. Bring it back to the trailer and we’ll strap it in. If you have trouble come find us. We can meet back at the car, kay?”

Aomine puts his hand in the middle of the group, throws it up in the air. “TEAAAAM BREAK!”

And then he scampers off into the trees, probably to get lost and make Kagami look for him.

“Why did you leave me with him?” He mutters, not expecting a response and trudging after his ward.

“Good luck!” He hears Momoi’s tickling laugh behind him.

“Yeah, yeah…” He mumbles bitterly, weaving between the endless copse of evergreens. He quickly scopes out the choices as he walks; some seem to be fairly acceptable—nice width in-between branches, the needles healthy and green. Others are clearly diseased, a sick orange coloring tainting whole branches, the needles falling off and leaving pitiful bald patches.

He finds Aomine rather quickly. He’s standing in front of a tall tree that has a nice seagreen color to it. Kagami stands next to him, crosses his arms.

“It’s a pretty color, but it’s freakin’ huge. This’ll cost a fortune and it would probably scrape the ceiling at my place.”

“What if I wanted it for my place, huh? Ever thought about that? So selfish.” Aomine shakes his head, clucks his tongue in disappointment.

“The ceilings at my place are taller than yours by a few feet. Don’t give me that bull.”

Aomine grins at him, shrugs his shoulders. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Trees don’t work that way, sorry.”

Aomine opens his mouth to undoubtedly say something stupid when he’s interrupted by a nearby scream. They both look towards the noise, Kagami's stomach flipping uncomfortably. “Sounds like a kid,” he says, but Aomine’s already running full sprint towards the sound, exaggeratedly dodging the trees with his own sound effects.

“Oh my god, he's so fucking embarrassing.”

Kagami follows more slowly, finds Aomine in a little clearing, crouching down low in front of a little boy who’s bawling his eyes out. He has his leg laid out in front of him gingerly, and Aomine’s rolling up his pant leg. Kagami can see that the ankle is a little red and swollen.

“Aw, did you step in a hole and twist your ankle?” asks Aomine softly. His expression is so gentle and kind, Kagami feels weird looking at it.

The kid nods, hiccuping through his tears. Aomine reaches out, pulls his sleeve over his hand and wipes at the kid’s face. “It’s ok, it’s ok, calm down. Do you know where your parents are?”  The little boy shakes his head, a fresh wave of tears flowing down his face and Aomine again clears them away. Kagami thinks he can’t be any more than five years old.

“Ok, that’s no problem. Do you think you can walk?” Another head shake. “That’s fine too. Ok, I’m gonna turn around and I want you to climb on my back. Think you can do that?” The kid sniffs, squints at him, nods slowly. Aomine smiles at him, reassuringly, and Kagami doesn’t know if he wants to watch anymore. It’s doing strange things to his chest.

Aomine turns around, still crouched low, and the kid stands up, hopping on one foot. He wraps his arms around Aomine’s neck and Aomine reaches behind to get ahold of the kid’s legs before standing up, doing a little hop to get the kid better situated on his back. The kid has stopped crying, is looking around at awe of being so high off the ground. He giggles when Aomine does a few more bounces for kicks.

“Ok, and away we go!” He turns to smile at Kagami, jerks his head for him to follow.

They start walking back towards the parking lot, Kagami walking quicker so the two are side by side. If the kid’s lost his parents, there’s a good chance they’re waiting for him there. The little boy starts whimpering again, and Aomine starts to talk loudly to distract him.

“So kiddo, ya know any cool songs? Any silly ones?” The kid sniffs, lets out a trembling breath, and shakes his head against Aomine’s shoulder.

Aomine looks at Kagami. “Taiga, know any songs?”

Kagami thinks for a minute. “Hey, do you know this one? ‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree…’” He sings, trying to school his expression into something warm and comforting. The kid hesitates for a moment, then nods.

“I know that one.”

“Awesome! Why don’t we sing it together as we walk? Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, counting all the monkeys he can see…” The boy joins, quietly, shyly hiding his face in Aomine’s neck as Kagami looks at him. Getting the hint, he turns back forward, belting as loud as he can. Aomine seems to take that as a direct challenge and starts in, his voice cracking with the effort to be louder than Kagami, and by the time they reach the parking lot the little boy is laughing delightedly and their singing has been reduced to aggressive shouting.

“Kouki! Honey!” They hear a desperate voice and look over to see a hysterical mother sprinting towards them, a man not far behind them. They both look sick from relief.

“Is he ok? What’s wrong with him?” The mother flutters her hands around her child’s head, the boy’s cheeks turning red.

“Momma, stop it…”

“He’s fine, it just looks like a light sprain. He tripped in a hole.”

“Oh, _baby.”_  

“Momma, I’m _fine.”_

“Here, you can let him down now. I’ll carry him to the car.”

Aomine crouches down and the little boy slides off, keeping the weight off his leg and balancing by gripping a fistful of Aomine’s jacket before he’s scooped up by the father. “Kouki, what did we tell you about running off? It's _dangerous_ …” And he turns around to walk towards a silver minivan. The little boy gives a shy wave at the both of them, a small smile on his face.

“Oh, I can never thank you enough. You boys must be special, Kouki is so shy and he already likes you both.” The mother laughs, running a trembling hand through her hair.

“Oh no, it was no trouble at all. We had a lot of fun with him.” Kagami smiles, reaches out to give a reassuring squeeze to the mother’s shoulder. She smiles wanly, looking exhausted.

“Alright. Well, I’m glad.” She says quietly, twists her body half way towards her car. “Thank you again! So so so much!” And then she speed walks to the minivan, swoops in to smooch the face of her child, already strapped into the car seat. They can hear him protest across the lot.

“Well, that was an adventure.” Kagami says, letting out a big breath.

Aomine laughs, throws an arm casually across Kagami’s shoulders and leans into him. “You’re pretty good with kids, Taiga. I’m surprised.”

Kagami raises his eyebrows. “That’s supposed to be my line. But, you’re basically a child yourself, I guess it doesn’t count.”

Aomine laughs again, leans away and gives him a shove. “Shut up, asshole.”

Kagami rolls his eyes and the two of them troop back into the trees.

“You know, I just realized. We probably only need one tree. I spend most of my time at your place anyway; it would go to waste at mine. Let’s just let those three pick one out.” Aomine leans in to sniff at a pine tree, groans. “ _Fuck_ , smells so good…”

Kagami stops walking, rests his hands on his hips. “Then what do you propose we do instead? It’s gonna take them awhile; Kuroko’s not just gonna settle.”

Aomine shrugs his shoulders. “We could take a walk.”

“Take a walk. Here.”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Kagami can’t think of a good reason why not, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and joins Aomine. They walk aimlessly through the groves for a while, chatting and arguing like they usually do, watching their breaths puff in front of their faces.

“Taiga, look! Snow!”

Little fluffy flakes are floating down from the cloudy sky, landing delicately on pine needles and sticking to Kagami's face before melting. This moment is feeling way too poetic to him. Icing on the cake comes as Aomine shoves his hand into Kagami’s pocket, their gloved hands pressed close together. Kagami startles, glances at Aomine questioningly.

“My hand’s cold. Your pocket’s warm.” Is all he offers as explanation, not meeting Kagami’s eyes, instead staring up at the flakes drifting down.

Kagami recalls his cautioning words from the park more than a month ago, knows that this would count as crossing a boundary. He can’t bring himself to care.

They walk around with Aomine’s hand shoved in his pocket for a while longer before heading back towards the parking lot. Aomine removes his hand just as they clear the last of the trees and Kagami finds that it leaves an uncomfortable empty space next his own. As they meet up with the other three who have, in fact, found the perfect Christmas tree, Kagami doesn’t know what he’s feeling but all he knows is that his body is light and warm in the cold air.

\--

The next day when Kagami gets home from work, dead on his feet, he’s greeted by a beautiful Christmas tree standing tall and proud in the corner of his living room.

Yesterday, when the five of them had all hauled it into the house, stood it up, they had set to decorating it. Kuroko had set up Christmas music on the TV, and Momoi had danced around, happy as a clam, slithering tinsel around the room and singing passionately if not off-key. The others had pooled together their Christmas decoration supplies and decked out the whole house. Momoi’s tinsel was wrapped around the guard rail on the stairs, above the mantle of the fireplace, almost every available surface. The others hung shiny stars and large colorful orbs on the tree, Kuroko wrapping a long rope of white holiday lights around the trunk all the way up, so when they turned off the lights the room was washed in a warm glow. Kise even had a little green ornament shaped like a pickle, claimed it was a family heirloom and placed it as close to the top of the tree as possible. And while none of them were particularly religious, Kagami had an old Nativity set his mother had given him, and he places it on the mantle of the fireplace among all the tinsel. All and all, Kagami had never felt the holiday spirit more before.

Smiling fondly at the memories, Kagami gets ready and climbs into bed, not looking forward to work tomorrow but remembering that his next day off was three days away. He wonders what he and Aomine will do. The park’s sports court had become too icy to play on—maybe they’ll go play at the gym, challenge some guys to a pick-up game and annihilate them. Kagami’s smiling at the thought before drifting off.

It feels like he’s only asleep for five minutes before he’s jolted awake by a loud banging. Blearily, he looks at the clock on his nightstand and moans at reading that it’s two in the morning. He realizes sleepily that the noise is coming from someone knocking, very loudly, on the front door. He wonders who the fuck it could be at this time of night, but, realizing it might be an emergency (didn’t Kuroko go out with Kise last night? Did he come back?) Kagami stumbles out of bed and tries to focus his eyes as he walks to the front door and flings it open.

It’s Aomine.

Kagami quickly checks his body for any sign of injury, but seeing none he relaxes and leans against the doorframe. He rubs at his eye.

“Aomine, what the fuck are you doing here? Do you even know what time it is?” He grumbles; tries to stifle a yawn. There’s something off about Aomine’s expression, he can’t put his finger on what, and he’s not given much time to ponder about this before he suddenly realizes he’s being pushed back into his house, against the wall next to the door and now Aomine’s _kissing him._

His mouth is so soft and warm and Kagami can’t help but immediately reciprocate, he’s not even thinking, he’s still half asleep and Aomine’s body is so firm pushing against him. He moans, breaks his mouth away, and Aomine starts pressing hard, wet kisses against his jaw and neck and it feels _so good_ but something’s wrong. There’s a smell in the air, sharp and noxious, and Kagami soon identifies it as alcohol. He musters all the focus he can manage and pushes against Aomine’s chest, gets a few inches in between their bodies and he looks up slightly into the other’s face.

The alcohol smell surrounds him like a cloud, and his cheeks are flushed and his pupils are so dilated his eyes look black. He looks so hungry Kagami shivers.

“Aomine,” his voice is hoarse. He clears his throat, tries to meet the predatory eyes without cowering.

“You’re drunk. We can’t do this right now. You need to go home.”

As if not hearing him, Aomine leans in again, runs his tongue up the shell of Kagami’s ear, his breathing ragged.

“Taiga. _Taiga._ Fuck, I need to fuck you right now. I need you _right now_. I need you.” He bites down, and Kagami bites his lip with the effort not to groan, but he stubbornly pushes Aomine away again and takes a few steps back.

He glares, his brain and body finally waking up, adrenaline pumping through his system.

“No. That’s not happening. How’d you get here?”

“Taxi.”

Kagami looks out the still-open door, where ice-cold air is still blowing in, and Kagami sees with relief that the driver hasn’t left yet. They’re leaning out the window, craning their neck to see if Aomine’s actually going to be staying inside. Kagami raises a hand, gestures for the driver to wait, and he’s happy to see them give a quick nod before ducking back inside the car. Kagami shivers, his pajamas not doing much to keep him warm.

As he’s looked away, Aomine’s crept closer towards him again. He raises a hand, trails it from Kagami’s jaw all the way down his arm, goosebumps raising where his fingers touch. Kagami slaps it away.

“You’re getting back in the taxi. You don’t know what you’re doing. We can’t do this right now. ”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking want it.” Aomine growls, takes Kagami’s hand and tugs it towards him.

It’s like speaking to a different person than the one he’s been getting to know these past months. He’s suddenly transported back to that first night, to that first Aomine, and Kagami realizes he’s in the zone. He’s horny beyond all reason, which is bad enough, but mixed with alcohol and standing within two feet of Kagami, a man he’s confessed to finding very attractive, can only spell trouble.

Kagami’s having trouble breathing because he’s honestly afraid that he’s going to have to punch Aomine in the face, and he realizes he really doesn’t want to have to do that.  He rips his hand away, stands next to the door and points his finger outside.

“Aomine, I said fucking _no._ Now turn around and get your ass back in that taxi or I’m waking up Kuroko and Kise.”

He doesn’t even know if they’re actually home, but it’s the only threat he can think of that doesn't involve breaking Aomine’s jaw and he really, really doesn’t want to hurt him. Aomine lets out a humorless laugh.

“Fuck you _. Fuck you._ You’re a fuckin’ _tease,_ Kagami. Guys like you are a dime a dozen, you know. I could fuck a guy like you every day of the week. You’re nothing special. Whatever. Fucking dick.”

And then he walks back outside into the cold night, and Kagami lets the door drift shut.

Kagami can’t breathe now for a whole lot of different reasons. His heart is breaking. He’s trying not to cry. He’s realizing all these months of so-called friendship were all an elaborate ploy to get into his pants.

He still can't stop himself from calling Momoi in the middle of the night. He tells her that Aomine had been here, drunk, and that Kagami sent him home but she should make sure he gets there safely in about half an hour. She murmurs a sleepy assent, and she must be able to hear something wrong in his voice because she asks if he’s ok, did Aomine do something? Kagami chokes out that he’ll tell her later before hanging up.

Kagami crawls back into his bed that’s now significantly colder, numbly stares at the ceiling. This whole time, he’s just been a toy.  All those days playing basketball, eating together, bickering and laughing, they only meant something to one of them.

Kagami bites his trembling lip, realizing belatedly that he has a crush. A big one. But now it's irrelevant. 

As Kagami drifts uneasily to sleep, he finds himself wishing he had never met Aomine Daiki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Body Party" by Ciara. 
> 
> Holiday cheer and holiday tears! *ba-dum-tss*
> 
> I feel like Aomine's the kind of guy that tries to act all suave (let's be honest, he's never suave) then becomes this huge nerd boy when he's around his friends.  
> But he's also a giant pissbaby and needs to be repeatedly spanked. 
> 
> Furihata's first name is Kouki, and the pickle ornament is a legend in my family. I had to include it.


	7. i can't find your silver lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine's bad at a lot of things. Apologizing is one of them.

Aomine knows that Kagami Taiga is not, and never will be, a dime a dozen guy.

He knows this even as he says it. It’s like there’s no filter in-between his brain and mouth, because his angry drunk thoughts are just spewing out and he can’t get his lips to stop moving. He can only watch, as if from outside himself, as he lets out this absolute garbage and with every word Kagami’s face gets more and more pained, his eyes full of such hurt and betrayal.

Aomine doesn’t even remember the ride home. He remembers he gave the driver his wallet to dig out the necessary funds, stumbled up the stairs to his apartment. He doesn’t know how he manages to unlock the door—he’s not famous for his dexterity, even when he’s not intoxicated.

The next thing he knows he’s waking up to the worst headache he’s ever had, and his stomach is a roiling nauseous mess. He’s able to sprint to the bathroom before emptying his stomach, sits on the cold floor in front of the toilet and leans his head on the cool porcelain. He knows he did something bad last night, but he can’t recall what. All he knows is that his stomach is killing him because of something other than alcohol abuse, and he feels so sick because he can’t remember and how bad was it exactly?

He keeps repeating the same word in his head, over and over, _Taiga, Taiga, Taiga_. Whatever happened it involved him. He vaguely remembers seeing his face, that ridiculous red hair sticking up in all directions. And his mouth. Aomine Daiki is a fan of Kagami Taiga’s mouth. His lips always are always so pink and soft-looking; Aomine catches himself more often than he’d like to admit fantasizing about sucking on them, coaxing little moans out from between them. Aomine remembers Kagami’s lips very vividly, for some reason.  His head and stomach hurt too much for him to be able to delve any deeper into his memory. He’ll think about it some more once he’s not wishing he was dead.

He hears someone banging into his apartment, knows without lifting his head off the toilet to check that it’s Satsuki. He listens to her fling her shoes off like usual; they hit the wall by the door with a dull thud. There’s a mess of scuff marks there from years of Satsuki chucking her shoes off. Aomine never found it in himself the will to tell her to stop.

He hears her stomping closer to the bathroom, prepares his ears for ear-splitting berating, scolding him for getting drunk on a work night. But when she stops at the bathroom door, Aomine can feel she’s standing there, but she doesn’t say anything. When he turns his head to face her, face still smooshed on the toilet lid, he’s struck with such dread because she _knows_.  She knows exactly what happened last night, she probably knows more than him. And whatever it is, it’s not good.

“Did you know I came by last night?” she says, face somber, voice so quiet, but Aomine's ears still ring and he feels a wave of nausea.

“...you did?” his voice is so weak and hoarse. He swallows, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but it only makes him feel more choked up, and he’s scared he’s going to vomit again.

“Kagami-kun called me at two in the morning last night. Said that you stopped by his house after work. He wanted me to check on you to make sure you got home safely.”

The way she says this is like she doesn’t think Aomine deserves this kindness that was so like Taiga. The way she’s looking at him, Aomine’s starting to think she’s right.

“Oh.”

 Aomine’s brain is back to working furiously, trying desperately to recall any other detail from last night. Anything important that he did, that he said. Everything is still blurry, but he manages to snatch a few clear images as they fly by. He knows the reason he’s been thinking about Kagami’s lips all morning is because last night he kissed them. He’s elated—but only for a moment, because the kissing is accompanied with shoves against his chest, sad and desperate eyes. He breathes deeply, his stomach churning with tension and unease.

“I kissed Taiga last night.” Aomine says slowly, watching Satsuki for any hints. She says nothing, doesn't move at all, just keeps staring at him. He wets his lips, furrows his brows, trying to think through the haze.

“He, uh, pushed me away. Not surprising." He furrows his brows, brings one hand up to wipe at his clammy forehead. "But I remember he looked…upset. And I can’t remember why. Satsuki, I can’t remember.” He whimpers, squeezes his eyes tight shut.

“You mean you can’t remember telling Kagami-kun that he was a dime a dozen guy. You don’t remember cursing him out. You don’t remember telling him that you ‘could fuck a guy like him every day of the week’”. Her voice stays quiet, yet becomes sharper with anger, and the way she says this, he knows it’s quoted word for word.

He’s frozen. A hot flash buzzes up, swirls around his ears and his chest, and he can’t breathe.

“Oh, my god.” And then Aomine leans over the toilet, heaves, wants to disappear, sink into the ground and never come up. He wipes his mouth with toilet paper, flushes everything down. He looks back to Satsuki, completely drained, and she just gives him that look he hates. Like she’s so disappointed. It would be so much better if she just out and yells at him, but she knows this way it hurts more.

“Kagami-kun doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, Daiki.”

“I know.” He whispers, his breaths trembling and ragged.

“I don’t think you do. I think you take him for granted. You were drunk. You had a bad day at work. I know that. But for you to go to Kagami-kun’s house, to nearly force yourself on him and to say all those awful things. It’s despicable. He didn’t have to, but he still called me, worried that you'd have trouble getting home. I love you, Daiki, but Kagami-kun deserves better than that.”

“I know he does!”  Aomine tries to yell, but it’s so broken and pathetic. He understands that underlying message: Kagami deserves better than _you._

Aomine just wants Satsuki to leave him alone. He wants to flush _himself_ down the toilet. He had been doing so good. Taiga had let him get away with a lot of stuff he wouldn’t have before. A few perverted jokes, casual touches. And the absolute best had been when walking at the tree farm, he had nearly held Kagami's hand. Well, their hands were in the same pocket, but his heart had still been fluttering like crazy, waiting for Kagami to slap him upside the head and tell him to cool it with the flirting, but he never did.

But now he’s ruined it. There was no possible way for him to ever look Kagami in the eye again. He knows that he needs to apologize; he needs to apologize soon before this starts to fester like an infected wound, but he doesn't think he can do that when just thinking of talking to Kagami makes him nauseous. He has ruined something so good.

\--

Both his jobs had sucked royal ass yesterday.

His supervisor at the gardening center was a mean little man who always smelled vaguely like nacho cheese and cheap beer. Usually he confined himself and his nasty smell in his office in the back of the store, doing his boring gross little man stuff like napping and ruining lives. But it appeared that the store owner had finally told him that he either needed to start doing work or face the consequences, because all day yesterday he had been prowling the aisles, peeking his rodent eyes around the corners, waiting for someone to screw up. For some reason, he had decided that Aomine deserved to be his target for the day, as he had become even more of a raging psycho asshole than usual, screaming at him for mistakes other employees had made, making him clean the private bathroom in his office (that's an experience Aomine's never going to be able to scrape from his hands), making him unload so many bags of fertilizer by the end of the day he literally smelled like shit. 

Thus, arriving for work at the club, he was already in a foul mood on top of smelling like a petting zoo. He was able to take a shower in the changing rooms, but he still felt distinctly dirty. Kise didn’t have work that night, so he was forced to enjoy the company of some of his less preferred stripper comrades, namely Takao who talked way too much and too quickly. Normally he didn’t mind this and actually found Takao kinda funny, but that night everyone could have been walking cheeseburgers and still pissed him off.

He danced like usual, dropping panties and leaving puddles of drool on the floor as he went, but it left him strangely unsatisfied. Frustrated, after changing back to regular clothes he hit the bar, hoping a couple drinks would blur his insides enough to a point where this bad day wouldn't seem so bad anymore. As an employee, he got all the drinks he wanted for free, but he didn't get to have any fun that way. So he flirted, coaxing shots of Fireball and sweetly flavored vodka out of slack-jawed men and women, made sure to stretch his neck and flex his arms in that way he knew made him look irresistible. He took shot after shot, desperately trying to will away the day. He felt dirtier the more he drank, but he didn't stop. The dancing on top of flirting with everything in the club with a pulse had caused his his pants to tighten, so he drank hoping it would go away.

It kept becoming more frustrating, because he knew what he wanted but he couldn't satisfy it. He wanted sex but not just with anyone. He wanted Taiga. 

Aomine is able to admit, but only to himself, that he has a thing for Kagami Taiga. And by "thing" he means that he's completely, head-over-heels smitten. He doesn't understand where it came from. All he knows is that one day he's looking at Kagami like he's a piece of meat, and the next day he's admiring the warm color of his eyes, his deep, jolly laugh that makes Aomine's toes curl, and his insane passion for life that leaves Aomine feeling like he's been staring into the sun for too long. He started looking forward to waking up every day, because that meant he was that much closer to seeing Kagami again. 

The other feelings he had for Kagami, namely the I-want-to-bend-you-over-a-table type of feelings, were now only background noise. He noticed them only when he was done dancing and got that usual burn in his stomach, or when he was home late at night and he thought about how it would be if he and Kagami were alone in his bed. But otherwise, when he and Kagami were together, when they ate and sat out on the living room carpet playing Mario Kart, those thoughts were in the very back of his mind. When they did come up, he just had to gently remind himself he was delusional as fuck and needed to get over himself. That usually worked. 

But that night nothing was working. The more he drank, the further those thoughts pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind, until his head was swimming with alcohol and Kagami's naked body pressed against him. He tried to look critically at everyone around him through his drunken haze, looking for literally  _anyone else_ that did it for him, that he could take home for the night and get this bitter feeling out of his body. All he felt were various degrees of disgust. That was when he started to get angry.  _  
_

If Kagami was going to make him feel this way Aomine was going to take what was his; he owed him that much. Thus, with a wronged sense of entitlement, Aomine had stumbled his way outside and hailed a cab, sealing his fate. 

He doesn’t understand where those awful things he said even came from. He’s never had those thoughts before they were spewing out his good-for-nothing mouth, the bitter feeling roiling in his stomach as he looks at Kagami's reddened lips, up to his eyes that are so bewildered and hurt. Aomine is a mean drunk to start with. Belligerent, quick to fight, to say anything he knows will get someone to break down. So maybe he didn’t truly mean any of those things, but drunk Aomine was cruel. He had wanted to get Kagami Taiga to cry because of him, as some twisted sort of revenge, and he had been willing to say anything to make it happen. He wonders, feeling sick, if it worked.

He wonders if Kagami cried.

\--

Aomine starts with the most cowardly option: phone calls. And even that has him break out in a cold sweat and he finds himself wanting to ask Satsuki to do it for him, but he knows if he did that he would get a high heel and various cosmetic products shoved up his ass.

He takes a deep breath, holds the phone to his ear and as the dial tone rings he feels his heart beat pounding in his ears. He closes his eyes, braces himself like he’s about to get a shot. He jolts when he hears Kagami speak. But it’s his voicemail message, and all the tension bleeds out of Aomine to be replaced with disappointment and a little relief. Maybe this way it’ll be easier, he can still apologize and let Kagami get back to him on his own terms.

“Uh, hi, Taiga. It’s, um, me, Aomine. So, obviously I’m calling about what, er, happened the other night. I….first of all, I want to say I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean any of that crap, it was so stupid. I—Well, you know I was drunk, and I know that doesn’t excuse anything, but everything I said only came out because I couldn’t hold it in, but none of it was true. And I’m sorry that I, ah, k-k….kissed you, without asking, I just got done dancing and, well, you know—“ he’s suddenly cut off by a beep, and he throws his phone across the room with a frustrated growl, because that was the worst apology he’s ever heard, was he even trying, there was no way it would sound sincere to Kagami.

So he’s not surprised at all to find that within the next few days he doesn’t hear back from him.

He leaves several more voicemails over the course of the next week.  Each time, he stutters his way through apologies that sound half-assed even to his own ears. He’s never been good at saying he’s sorry—he’s been getting better at it steadily through his adult years, but it’s like he’s reverted back to his pungent high school self.  He doesn’t understand how he’s able to screw this apology up so many times, especially when he knows there’s so much on the line.

Kagami really hasn’t been in his life for very long. About three and a half months, he supposes. In the grand scheme of his life these months are a tiny speck, yet they hold so much weight he doesn’t think he’d be able to go back to how things were before.

He misses Kagami. A lot. His whole body trembles with the need to play basketball, his stomach reacts angrily every time he has to eat food that Kagami didn’t make.  But more than that, he misses his company, that blunt wit covering up the kind heart. The only company he’s got lately has been Satsuki, and even when she doesn’t say anything he can feel the disapproval coming off her in waves. It drives him insane, but he knows he doesn’t have the right to say anything. So most of the time they’re together is spent in silence, as he eats her radioactive food and they watch bad TV together in his quiet, empty apartment.

Both his jobs have been a nightmare. It’s pretty difficult to mess up at the gardening center, even with rat-man hovering about, but somehow he manages. While his mind is swimming with guilt, he unknowingly ignores customers, is unable to organize new plant shipments. He floats around the store, exhausted from lack of sleep, and snaps at customers for the littlest things. This, of course, doesn’t help with the whole super-dick-boss situation.

The club is even worse. His dancing sucks. He just can't put his heart into it; his body feels like it's moving through molasses. The people that come to see him regularly don’t seem to notice, just happy to see him on a stage without a shirt. But his manager notices, and so do his coworkers. They ask what’s up with you, are you alright, you look like you’re sick, you should take the rest of the night off.

Kise won’t even make eye contact with him anymore.

\--

It’s been nearly two weeks since the incident and Aomine’s going absolutely crazy. He gathers up the courage to take the next step in his quest for forgiveness: see Kagami and apologize in person.

The morning he decides to suck it up and just see Kagami face-to-face is the day he realizes he's more pathetic than he ever thought. He's literally trembling as he eats his cereal, fingers missing the zipper on his pants, keys jingling uneasily as he starts up his car. He has to monitor his breathing as he drives, making sure he doesn't hyperventilate and subsequently die in a fiery crash before he gets to properly apologize to Kagami. 

The trip takes way less time than usual, he realizes with chagrin, as he pulls up next to the curb across the street. Aomine's always thought that Kagami's house looks like someplace his grandparents would like to live, not where men in their twenties sat around watching basketball. It's off-white, with a porch spread across the whole front, little potted plants lining the wall, their leaves and stems completely shriveled and brown in the cold air. Tinsel is wrapped on the fence around the porch, and Aomine realizes with a pang that it's less than a week until Christmas. With all his guilt and scattered thoughts he completely forgot about the Holiday season. He takes a moment to think of a quiet, depressing Christmas morning alone with Satsuki, and wonders what she'd like as a gift. He can safely say he's not looking forward to it.  

He gets out of the car and feels like he's smacked in the face by the cold; he realized belatedly with all his fidgeting this morning he forgot to dress properly, all he's wearing is a hoodie and jeans. He wonders how he didn't notice as he was leaving the house, but shakes his head and tries to focus on the task at hand. He steps up the walkway, his knees feeling like overcooked noodles, and tries to take great care in stepping up the frosty steps. He hopes Kagami is home as much as he hopes he’s not. This meeting could determine once and for all whether Aomine will need to give up and live to regret that night for the rest of his life, or whether he’ll get back one of the greatest things to ever happen to him.

He raises his hand, hesitates for a moment, then rings the doorbell. He’s so used to just walking right in—but he suspects Kagami finding him in his living room when he's #1 on his hit list is a bad idea.

Aomine doesn’t know how he managed to forget that Kagami doesn’t live alone. He’s just been so focused on Kagami, on how he can get Kagami to forgive him, to speak to him again, he completely forgot he has more than one person to worry about answering the door. So when it opens and he’s met with cold blue eyes, he’s able to squeak out a “shit” before he’s slapped across the face. He staggers back a few steps, nearly falling down the porch steps, his cheek pulsing red and tears pricking his eyes. He looks back to the livid face in the doorway.

“Tetsu…” he chokes, scrambling to rearrange his thoughts but all he can focus on is the throbbing of his face and the fact that his skin is about to be flayed from his body.

“How _dare_ you come here. You don’t have the right. If you so much as…” and Kuroko has to close his eyes for a moment, breathe deeply, his nostrils flaring. Aomine’s never seen him so angry. He feels like he’s staring at the wrath of God.

“Listen Tetsu, please, just hear me out. I’ve tried apologizing, I’ve left him voicemails—“

Kuroko barks out a cold laugh, his mouth twisted mockingly into a smile.

“Yes, Aomine-kun, I know you’ve been calling Kagami-kun and leaving him _voicemails_. And I’m saying that I never want to see you around here again.” He says, mouth flat and eyes piercing. “I actually thought you had changed. I see now that you’re the same as you’ve always been:  selfish, pigheaded, pompous, _cruel_ —I could go on. Kagami-kun deserves so much more than you have to offer, and he will get that. I’ll be sure of it.” 

Kuroko starts to close the door, but Aomine desperately wedges his foot between the door and the frame; Kuroko notices but continues to slam the heavy wood on Aomine’s foot repeatedly.

“No! Please, Tetsu, I’m begging you here. Please.” He grits out, his teeth clenched, trying to ignore the pain of his foot. Kuroko’s eyes flash up at him from where he was obviously enjoying the show between them.

“What do I owe you, Aomine-kun? After you hurt my best friend so badly, after you treated me so poorly in high school, what could I possibly owe you?”

“I’m not saying you owe me. I guess...I guess I’m just asking for your help.”

Kuroko laughs again coldy, and involuntary shivers run up Aomine’s spine.

“And I ask you again: why should I? So you can get close to Kagami-kun and then hurt him again, over and over? Kagami-kun is too kind and trusting, he’ll fall for your deceptions _. But I won’t_.” Kuroko growls, glaring up at Aomine, his teeth bared. Aomine swallows and again fears for his life. He removes his foot from the door, backs up a few steps, then bows deeply at the waist, stares at his shoes. Aomine can’t remember the last time he bowed so low.

“I know I’ll never be good enough for Taiga. But, Tetsu, I like him. I like him so much. I had never been so happy. I know I screwed up so bad. I know. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.” He can hear his voice start to tremble and wills himself to keep it together.  “But all I want is to make it right again. I swear, I’m not lying. And I swear on my life I’m never going to do it again. I can’t promise I won’t be an ass, or that I’ll never hurt him again, but I will swear I’ll try my hardest not to. I’ll quit my job at the strip club. I’ll do whatever I need to. Anything, Tetsu. Just please help me get Taiga back.”

He cranes his neck to look at Kuroko, whose face is blank except for the slight cocking of his eyebrow. He just stares at Aomine in silence. Aomine prays that means he’s considering it; it’s been so long since he could tell what Kuroko was thinking.  

“I believe you are being sincere,” Kuroko says slowly, his eyes squinting like he’s trying to see into Aomine’s brain. A few more long seconds of silence, then he steps closer, bends with his hands on his thighs so that their faces are level.

“I’ll accept your request. But just so we’re on the same page, know that I am still extremely angry with you and that I am doing this purely for Kagami-kun’s well-being. Also,” and his voice drops down to an almost inaudible murmur, “believe me when I say that if you go back on your promises, I will not hesitate to ruin your miserable little life. Are we clear?”

Aomine nods, straightening, and struggles not to piss himself.

Kuroko straightens as well, his face back to his normal neutrality.

“Alright, well then—“

And then he’s interrupted by stomping footsteps and a chipper, “Kurokocchi, who’ve you been yelling at?!” before Kise pops into the door, squeezing in so that he and Kuroko are squished together side by side. He sees Aomine and gasps dramatically.

“YOU.” 

“Me.”

“Kise-kun, it’s alright. I have already taught Aomine-kun a lesson.” says Kuroko, gestures at Aomine’s cherry-red cheek. Kise scowls, pouting.

“Did you give him a good one?”

“I assure you it was quite solid.”

Kise considers this, stares at Aomine’s face.

“You know what, no! It’s not fair that you got to and I didn’t just because I wasn’t here! I love Kagamicchi so much he’s basically a part of me! You hurt him, you hurt Kise Ryouta! Therefore, I want a turn to hit Aominecchi! I know, I’ll close the door and Aominecchi can knock again—“

“Oh my god, if I let you slap me too will you shut the hell up?”

He’s answered with a resounding smack to his face and a squeal of glee.

“I did it! Kurokocchi, didn’t that make a nice sound?”

“Yes, it was very loud. Good job, Kise-kun.”

“Jesus Christ.” Aomine wheezes, his head spinning and eyes blurry with tears. He’s sure his cheek is going to be bruised from this. Kise laughs, wraps his arm around Kuroko’s waist.

“So what are we talking about?”

“I just agreed to help Aomine-kun apologize properly to Kagami-kun.”

Kise makes an “O” with his mouth, his eyes wide. 

“Oh really? How’re you gonna do that? He’s so pissed, you have no idea.” He stage whispers the last part to Aomine, who nods, mouth a flat line.

“Here, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko gets out his phone, starts typing with quick, sure fingers. “I’m going to send you directions on how to get to Kagami-kun’s restaurant from here. He’ll still be at work for several hours. I suggest you go there and ask to speak with him; I assume he’ll be most comfortable in an environment where he can turn you down without seeing you face-to-face.”

“Um. Right.”

Kuroko looks back up to him, gives him a gentle punch in the gut.

“I’d tell you not to worry, but I can’t. It’s Kagami-kun’s decision now if he’ll see you or not. Just be as honest as possible; that’s all the advice I have for you.”

Aomine looks from Kuroko’s face to Kise’s, both bearing varying expressions of encouragement, and feels less alone than he has in weeks.

“Thanks, Tetsu. Thank you so much. I’ll buy you dinner sometime, ok?” He says, turning to start back down the walk.

“I would expect nothing less, Aomine-kun. And good luck.”

Aomine laughs, turning to flash a nervous smile at the two of them still in the doorway.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "La La La" by Naughty Boy. It's not really a sexy song but I've been listening to it on repeat so why not? The sexy songs kind of just turned into songs I like in general anyways.
> 
> Kuroko Tetsuya doesn't put up with no bullshit and I love him with all of my heart.  
> This is more of a building-block chapter. Aomine needed to suffer and realize he needs to get his act together. I hope you enjoy it regardless!
> 
> P.S. Updates might be a bit slower than usual, I'm moving and my apartment doesn't have internet yet (cries) and inspiration has been a bit slow as well. ALSO! I wanted to again thank everyone that have sent such kind comments, they make my day!


	8. champagne kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, or the new beginning.

If Kagami were to summarize the last few weeks of his life in one word, it would be “dark.” He knows it sounds dramatic and disgustingly poetic, but there’s just nothing else that could be used to describe the murkiness surrounding his heart.

It felt like he had been following a very bright star for the past few months, believing unwaveringly that it was leading him somewhere better, but now it was extinguished and he was lost. He felt like he was wandering aimlessly, his heart a heavy weight in his chest, moving sluggishly through waist-deep sludge as he tries to find his way out.

He tries, for the sake of his worried friends, to make it seem not as bad as it is. He sticks with his normal schedule; he works, cooks, watches TV with them in the evenings. He goes to bed on time and wakes up when he needs to.  He pastes on a smile when they make eye contact, accepts the warm hugs that come so frequently nowadays without the fuss he’d normally make. He feels like if anything, he’s acting like a better Kagami than he was before _the incident_.

He also knows that Kuroko isn’t fooled for one second.

He comes home from work one day to find a plate of homemade Christmas cookies on the counter, a huge pile covered in saran wrap with a sticky note with his name on it, _For Kagami-kun, we love you._  Little sugar cookies shaped like Santa’s hats and reindeer, bells and star shapes covered in frosting and glittering sprinkles. He’s easily able to tell Kise’s cookies apart from Kuroko’s; the Santas missing heads and the deformed reindeer legs. He’s able to laugh for a moment, picturing the two of them bustling around the kitchen trying to cook when they’ve never had the need to before. His heart’s stuck in his throat, unbearable affection mixed with the reminder of why he needs cheering up in the first place.

He finds that his room had been picked up, his washed and ironed clothes folded neatly into his dresser and hanging in his closet. They let him watch all the awful reality shows he wants, groaning together at all the right parts and throwing popcorn at the TV. Kuroko and Kise opt not to sit glued together like usual but instead sit on either side of Kagami, the three of them pressed close together on the floor, leaning against the couch and legs spread out in front of them. Kagami appreciates their gestures more than he can say. The warm pressure at his sides help him feel like he’s being held together instead of falling apart.

\---

When the first call came, the three of them had been playing Sorry! at the kitchen table, one of the first attempts at consoling Kagami, whose eyes were still bloodshot and skin pale from lack of sleep. When his ringtone goes off, phone vibrating across the table, Kagami startles like a deer, reads the name on the display and visibly recoils, curling in on himself in his chair.

“It’s him. What do I do?” He frets, his hand twitching back and forth, hesitant, like he was debating whether or not to pick up a poisonous snake.

Kuroko reaches for it instead, his eyes narrowing infinitesimally as he reads the name. He gets up from his chair, walks over to the refrigerator, stands up on his tiptoes and slides it on top. He then returns to his seat and rolls the dice without another word.

“Ah, wonderful. A seven. I have made my piece home safely.” He says, jumping his piece along the board, Kise groaning with a mumbled “how are you so good at this.”

Kagami still can’t move; he’s motionless until he hears the signature ding that signals that someone left him a message. His leg starts bouncing anxiously underneath the table.

“He left a voicemail. Kuroko, do I listen to it?” he worries, bites his lip, tugs at his hair. Kuroko reaches over, gently removes Kagami’s fingers from his hair, gives his hand a good squeeze.

“I’ll listen to it later and let you know if it’s worth listening to, alright?”

Kagami can only respond with a tight nod, taking the dice for his turn before trying to forget about his phone sitting on top of the fridge.

After their game, Kuroko takes Kagami’s phone with him into his and Kise’s room, quietly closing the door. Within two minutes he’s back out, gently plopping it into Kagami’s lap without a word. Later, when Kagami checks, he finds that there’s no evidence he ever received a voicemail.

Over the next few weeks, whenever he got a call and a subsequent message, he would quietly hand his phone to Kuroko to deal with. He would always get it back later in the day, with no trace anyone had tried contacting him at all.

Pretending like this wasn’t making him feel any better. Just because he wasn’t listening to them firsthand doesn’t mean he’s able to forget that Aomine was calling him in the first place. He finds himself wondering what he has to say, what he comes up with to excuse himself, if he’s apologizing at all. Kagami tells himself either way it doesn’t matter—this time around, he’s not going to be able to forgive. The way he felt after Aomine left that night wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on anyone. Like his air ways were partially blocked and he had to struggle to suck in air for each breath, his stomach a cold stone in his core. The feeling continued on until the next day, until he was finally able to come out and tell Kuroko why he was walking around like the grim reaper. The look on Kuroko’s face provoked an indescribable feeling of terror within Kagami, yet at the same time relief. He knew from this point on without a doubt he was going to be protected. If he wanted, he would never have to look Aomine in the face for the rest of his life.

But there's here’s nothing to protect him from the crippling nostalgia.

It was the most difficult when he was home.  There were reminders everywhere. The entryway, the living room, the kitchen, the dead plants on the front porch, all of them bore invisible fingerprints of the person he’s trying his hardest to forget about. Everywhere he looks, he’s assaulted by memories of phantom laughter, he sees figures sitting in the armchair in the corners of his eyes but when he looks they’re gone. It’s truly like having a ghost in his house.

Because despite everything, despite Aomine putting Kagami through this unending hell, he still _misses him._

Throughout their acquaintance, it had been easy to tell himself he just saw Aomine as a thorn in his ass. He was undoubtedly a royal prick, lazy and self-centered, a leech that had latched on to Kagami and sucked on him until he bled dry. But as time went on Kagami started seeing less and less of that side of Aomine—it was probably still there, plain as day, but he started noticing the other things even more. The contradicting sweetness, the brutal honesty that Kagami found so refreshing, the incomparable _zest._ When thinking of Aomine, Kagami thinks of spices—adding flavor, excitement, life. He brought it with him wherever he went, blazing a trail throughout the world.

He didn’t feel like he was stuck in a continuous loop anymore, either; he woke up excited, maybe not for work but what about the next day? What new excitement would Aomine bring him? As time went on he started to ignore the thorns and started to admire the flowers, the rich color and the heavenly smell. The thorns were still there, ready to prick him, but they were worth the risk.

He had gotten in too deep. It took him too long to realize the hole he was digging himself into, and by then the dirt had all caved in and suffocated him. Aomine had become more than a friend. He had blocked those thoughts out subconsciously, knowing it would be best if they never crossed his mind, knowing that they could never come to fruition. Wanting someone for their body was completely different than wanting someone for who they _were,_ and Aomine had made it very clear where his feelings lied. The flirting, the sneaky touches, Kagami knows that the root of all those things weren’t _romantic_ in the least. They annoyed him, but he could never bring himself to tell Aomine to knock it off. He had come to subconsciously look forward to those moments of false intimacy, for his own selfish satisfaction of feeling like they were _something,_ caught along in his fantasy world of make-believe.

So maybe if he had just seen Aomine as a friend, like he was _supposed_ to do, if he hadn’t gotten so attached, this wouldn’t have hurt as much. The blow had been quick—like taking off a band aid, the pain should have been minimal. But it had left him ragged, the wound frayed and it bled continuously, and he could just never get it to stop. Because he had been wrong about Aomine. All the notions Kagami had formed about him— the sweet center he suspected was buried underneath the crusty layers of sarcasm and sass, the honesty, the endless enthusiasm. How could a person who was kind spit those foul words at him like venom? How could he have been honest, treating Kagami like a friend, when the whole time he saw Kagami as nothing but a play thing, something to toy with when he was bored? Kagami even wonders if the childlike excitement had been a ruse as well, a mask he used to lure in sore saps like him. They were all misconceptions on Kagami’s part, and his incorrect assumptions had cost him.

He admits the crush had gone too far. He had let himself get too high, and when the push came, savage and cruel, the fall hadn’t been merciful. Now he could only hope that with time, he could put himself together again.  

\---

It was easiest to cope at work. The only place in his life Aomine had never touched. There, he’s able to pretend to his heart’s content the last few months never happened, that he was the same Kagami he was in August and that he’s an unchanged man. It’s the only place that’s truly safe.

He knows his safe haven is shattered nearly two weeks after the first phone call as Koganei rushes through the double doors of the kitchen, swinging them open forcefully, looking flustered and scared and immediately Kagami has a strange sense of foreboding, like cold water is spreading throughout his body.  His feeling only grows as Koganei spots him out, eyes wide and harried, and hurries over to stand across the counter from him as Kagami stands over a pan of sizzling scallops.

“Kagami, there’s a freaking scary guy outside who says he wants to talk to you.”

Kagami stalls, hoping it’s not who he suspects it to be, flips the pan and doesn’t meet Koganei’s eyes, humming, trying for nonchalant.

“Oh, really? What did they look like?”

“Freakin’ _tall!_ Taller than you, I think! And he looks like a _vampire_ , like crazy dark circles, but tan, and had this whole d-bag vibe goin’ on…”

Kagami slams the pan back down on the stove, startling Koganei, and squeezes his eyes tight shut.

“Fuck.” he whimpers, leans his hands against the steel counter to brace himself, his head spinning and heart beating out of control.

Now that he knows he’s here, standing not one hundred feet away, he almost feels like he could sniff the air and catch whiffs of that signature cologne, the one Kagami always told himself was tacky but he still took a big breath through his nose whenever Aomine walked by. He feels like there’s a hook tugging in his chest, telling him to move past those doors onto the restaurant floor, like there’s a gravitational pull towards that person and he fights it, makes sure his feet are firmly planted. There’s no way he’s moving from this spot. He doesn’t want to see Aomine. He would be fine never seeing Aomine ever again.

“Kagami-kun, are you alright?” He feels the huge warm hand of Kiyoshi clamp on his shoulder as he stares at his horrified reflection in the chrome.

“No, _no_ I’m _not_ fine, that’s the asshole who—who—“ he can’t say it,  but when he looks over his shoulder at Kiyoshi, desperately, he sees he doesn’t need to. His coworkers don’t know the details; he never wanted to talk about it, and why would he, when the restaurant was his only means of escape? But Kiyoshi and his other kitchen staff—they're not stupid, and they could see the heartbreak like it was written across Kagami’s face in Sharpie.

“Shh, it’s alright Kagami-kun. You don’t have to see him. It’s fine, I’ll go tell him to leave," murmurs Kiyoshi quietly, the hand giving a light squeeze on his shoulder before letting go.

Kagami spins around, expression wild and desperate, and he grabs onto Kiyoshi's arm.

“No! Wait! Tell him…tell him...” His mind is working furiously, contradicting emotions swirling. He’s caught between wanting to run out there and tell Aomine to fuck himself with a rake, or alternatively to forget the whole thing even happened and that they could go back to how things were.

His anger wins over.

“Tell Aomine that I don’t want to see him. Tell him to never come here again, never come to my house again, and I hope he has a great life banging all those guys that are so much more special than me. Also! Tell him. P.S. FUCK YOU.” He knows by the end he’s yelling, the customers eating outside can probably hear a dull roar coming from the kitchens but he can’t bring himself to care—he’s breathing heavy and feeling vindictive.

“Right.” Says Kiyoshi, looking startled, but doesn’t hesitate to turn around and head out the double doors, ducking to keep his head from hitting the frame.

Kagami anxiously waits for Kiyoshi to return, knows everyone in the kitchen is staring at him, knows that Koganei is still standing across from him fretfully, wringing his hands and looking like he’s trying to think of something comforting to say, but something in Kagami’s expression keeps him from saying anything. Kagami’s really temped to peek through the porthole window to watch, but reminds himself it’s unnecessary. All he needs is his turn to get savage gratification.

It’s there, waiting for Kiyoshi to come back and deliver the verdict, that Kagami makes the connection. There’s only one person who'd have the know-how to tell Aomine where and when Kagami worked. He doesn’t know the circumstances of how this betrayal had come to be, especially from his biggest supporter, his protector, but he’s already plotting the hell he’s going to unleash on Kuroko when he gets home. The anger now is thickly layered, feeling like a scab over the knife wounds on his back and he starts wishing he was the one out there laying it on Aomine, he wants to scream and thrash and watch firsthand as Aomine’s face crumples.

Kiyoshi re-enters the kitchen after a tense minute of relative silence, only sizzling and the beeping of machines breaking the quiet. He looks completely unchanged, except for a mild look of satisfaction on his face.  

Kagami’s on him in an instant, their faces uncomfortably close together.

“Did you tell him? What did he say?”

“He said ok.” Says Kiyoshi, smiling and scratching the back of his head, looking only the tiniest bit awkward.

“That’s it?” Kagami’s a little embarrassed that he sounds so disappointed. He wanted revenge. He wanted tears, and pain, and bewilderment. He wanted Aomine to feel the way he had felt.

“Yeah. I was kind of surprised. He didn’t seem mad or anything. Oh. But he did ask me to tell you that he’s going to be waiting for you at the McDonalds down the street. And that if you go he’ll buy you as many chicken nuggets as you want.”

“He WHAT?” Kagami nearly screeches, throws the wooden spoon he’d been clenching against the steel counter, eliciting a loud clanging echo throughout the kitchen, causing his coworkers to cringe.

“That _little fucker._ He’s resorting to bribery now, huh? That’s so fucking _cheap._ Thinks I’ll just up and forgive him if he buys me _chicken nuggets_ from fucking _McDonald’s._ Well there’s _no way in hell_ I’m going. Unbelievable.” And he stomps back to his station, imaginary steam blowing out his ears, and scowls at the pans in front of him as his coworkers tiptoe around him.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t been eating well. He hasn’t been sleeping well, for obvious reasons, so by the time he gets home from work he’s too exhausted to cook up the enormous portions that satisfy him. He’s instead forced to settle for the amount Kuroko and Kise eat, measly in comparison, and the thought of limitless breaded chunks of chicken is certainly tempting. Well, it’s not like he has to _talk_ to Aomine—he’ll just eat, ignoring whatever pathetic thing Aomine calls an apology, and leave without a word. That would get his feelings across quite nicely.

Making up his mind, Kagami unties his apron and sticks it on the hook by the door. His uniform is still nasty, the apron doing little to protect him from backsplash, but he figures he can get away with it if he’s just going to a fast food chain restaurant. He unhooks his winter coat, shrugs it on and braces himself for what he's about to do.  

“I’m going to take my lunch break now!” Kagami yells angrily over his shoulder, and without looking for confirmation he barges out into the cold air.

\---

When Aomine drives up and parks in the lot, he looks at the glowing red sign written in elegant cursive. It’s a place called _Seirin’s Bistro_ , and walking inside reveals that it’s not too fancy, but fancy enough that Aomine knows he wouldn’t be able to afford it. There’s a lot of fake ivy among the dim lighting, the air permeated with the scent of garlic. He thinks that the tables are covered with paper for people to draw on with crayon. He’s really tempted to check, but a man in an apron soon walks swiftly past him, empty serving platter under his arm. Aomine grabs his arm, lets go when the man startles and turns around. Aomine is struck with the thought that the guy looks like a cat. Something about his mouth, or something.

“Hey. Go get me Kagami Taiga.” And he must look worse than he thinks because the guy can only nod vigorously, his face petrified, before speed walking through the swinging door into the kitchens. Aomine presses his fingers underneath his eyes, feels the puffiness of his dark circles. Well, he doesn’t need to look hot to apologize. Maybe if he looks haggard enough Kagami will pity him and let him get a word out before socking him a good one.

The door swings open, and Aomine’s stomach flips with nervousness before stilling again in disappointment to see that it’s not Kagami, it’s just a tall average-looking guy with brown hair, but he’s making his way towards Aomine so he tries to straighten his back and not think about puking.

“Are you Aomine-san?” The guy says, looking every bit like a disapproving father.

“Yeah. Where’s Taiga? I need to talk to him.” Aomine’s trying really hard to keep his voice from being sharp. He feels like shit and he’s not good with words when he’s nervous, but the guy’s paternal expression doesn’t change except for a deepening of his frown.

“Right. Well, I was sent here to tell you, quote,” he looks upwards, squinting, ‘tell him that I don’t want to see him. Tell him to never come here again, never come to my house again, and I hope you have a great life banging all those guys that are so much more special than me p.s. fuck you.’”

Looking satisfied, the guy meets Aomine’s eyes again and all he can do is stare back at him blankly, processing this information, and finds himself not a bit surprised and weirdly pleased that he’s getting what he deserves.

“Ok…” he says slowly, looking down at the ground, trying to come up with a great Aomine-esque plan, but who’s he kidding, all his plans are shit because he’s shit. He looks back at Papa Bear, wearily.

“Just tell Taiga that I’m gonna be waiting for him at the McDonald’s down the road. Tell him that if he comes I’ll buy him as many chicken nuggets as he wants.”

And he spins around on his heel, swerves to avoid a customer getting out of their chair, and he walks out the door. Aomine is determined. He’s going to wait at that fucking McDonald’s all day if he has to. He’s hoping the allure of free fast food is enough to at the very least get Taiga to look at him.

The McDonald’s is really close to the restaurant. Within two minutes he’s parking his butt in a hard booth seat, tries to cross his leg over his knee but his leg is too long so he bangs it into the table. He settles for propping both feet on the opposite booth seat. He’s settling in for a long day of people watching, thinks about getting out his phone to play with but decides he doesn’t deserve entertainment so instead leaves it out lying on the table, in case by some miracle Kagami decides to call him.

What he’s not expecting is for Kagami to walk into the restaurant within the first ten minutes, looking extraordinarily pissed, but more than that Aomine can see that he’s exhausted, his dark circles look even worse than his own, emphasized on his paler skin. Aomine feels his guilt swallow him up like a tidal wave because this is undoubtedly his fault.

Kagami sees him immediately, his grimace deepens and he jerks his chin for Aomine to follow him. Aomine scrambles to get out of the booth, bangs his hip this time, swears, then jogs to join Kagami at the ordering counter. He’s staring at the overhead menu and won’t meet his eyes.

“I’ll start with three twenty-piece nuggets. And ten apple pies. And a large sweet tea.”

That’s all he says and Aomine is so grateful for his few blunt words he actually feels tears prick his eyes but he blinks furiously to will them away. Kagami leaves him there without another word and goes to sit down at the booth Aomine had claimed, slouches low over the table and leans on his arms, staring at the fake wood.

Aomine waits for his order without returning to the table. He needs time to think of how to even start and the huge order is going to take a while. Fifteen minutes later he’s carrying the tray full of deep-fried goodness back over, no more prepared than before, and he’s sweating like crazy and his heart is hammering in his chest but he has to do this; he can’t mess up so royally and then not even try to make amends. Kagami doesn’t look up as Aomine slides in across from him, instead his eyes zero in on the tray Aomine sets down and he rips open the boxes right away. Aomine lets him eat through one box and three apple pies before he even tries to speak; he’s hoping a little food in Kagami’s stomach will somewhat quell his anger.

Who’s he kidding. He’s gonna get punched in the face.

He wants to start off with sorry right away, he wants to be eloquent and put together and serious to show his sincerity. But he’s so scared right now that he thinks he might throw up, and if he throws up on Kagami’s food he’s going to die for sure.

“N-None—“ He chokes on his spit and has to take a deep breath—the only sign Kagami’s listening is that he’s slowed his chewing infinitesimally.

“None…of what I said was true. Not a single word.” Kagami’s stopped chewing, still not meeting his eyes, his mouthful sticking out his cheeks. Aomine wants to tease him for looking like Coconut but now’s not the time, he needs to focus.

“You….are the most special person I’ve ever met. There isn’t a person alive who could replace you.” He’s starting to speak faster as he forcefully shoves his foot in his mouth, as he becomes embarrassed at the plain truths spilling from his lips. But he needs to get everything out.

“And I’ve always known that. Since we met, and I’ve never thought otherwise. Which is only one of the reasons why what I said to you that night was so freakin’ stupid.” He’s feeling slightly panicky, he wants to undo the buttons on his shirt so he can breathe better but he’s wearing a t-shirt. So he hooks his fingers on the neckline and pulls, desperately, needs more oxygen, but there is none so he’s just gonna have to suck it up because Kagami’s finally meeting his eyes and he can’t look away from that fire.

“It was lies, all of it, every word. I don’t—I honestly don’t know where any of it came from. I’ve never thought that you owed me anything, Taiga.” A deep, heaving breath. He’s going to need to be resuscitated after this. “I’ve never thought that you were—that you were t-teasing me. I…I got drunk at the club that night over some stupid shit, I got angry for no reason and I either wanted to get laid or make someone cry.  I’m really good at that. So I tried my hardest to make you cry, Taiga.” He thinks he feels tears leaking out the corners of his eyes and he’s not in tune with his body enough right now to hide them.

“And I knew I was hurting you when I was saying that bullshit, but I just couldn’t stop. And it’s just so low to do that to someone, especially the person you like—“ He stops, lets out a small wavering gasp, because he had not meant to confess while he was apologizing for being a giant ass but it’s out, and Kagami’s eyes are so wide and his mouth is slack with shock. Aomine feels like a weight has been slightly lifted off his chest and he wants to keep going, see if he can get any lighter.

“I like you. Yeah. And not just because of your body, if that’s what you’re thinking. For a long time. Since you played basketball with me, since you singlehandedly ate thirty tacos, since you put up with a piece of shit like me. You smell like pine trees all the time and you’re so cute I can’t stand it and I like you, dammit. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” There’s a bubble in his throat, choking him off, and he can’t tell if it’s from the emotion of telling Taiga these things or from the sheer terror of what he’s saying.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but if you could _please_ give me a second chance, Taiga. I want to be in your life again.”

Aomine finally is able to look away, is conscious enough to sniff and wipe his nose and eyes, realizes that on top of his exhausted-looking-like-shit he now piled on top of that crying- looking-like-shit. If there was ever a time for the phrase “It’s what on the inside that counts”. Wait. His insides aren’t spectacular either. He’s screwed.

But Kagami stands up suddenly, and Aomine braces himself for a face full of fist, but Kagami leans over the table instead and grips Aomine’s shirt, pulls him forward so their lips meet.

Aomine didn’t plan for one second that he was going to kiss Kagami Taiga when he stepped into this fine establishment. His own mouth is weirdly slobbery from the crying and Kagami’s tastes like a frankly gross mixture of chicken and apple pie, but he can’t bring himself to care for a single second as he raises his hands to cup Kagami’s warm cheeks, he strokes them with his thumbs and Kagami’s hand grips behind his neck, the other finding Aomine’s wrist and holding tight.

It’s not the actual-first-kiss Aomine expected from Kagami. He had his fantasies, none of which involved leaning awkwardly across a table in a McDonald’s.  But it’s still so much better than what he could have imagined.

It’s as passionate as a kiss can be in public without getting called out for indecency. It’s slow, and soft, and when Kagami slips in just a little bit of tongue Aomine lets out a bewildered breath, because was this really happening, if this was a dream he was gonna be pissed. He wants this to continue on forever, he wants this fucking table out of the way so he can climb into Kagami’s lap, he wants to be somewhere where they’re not being stared at. Kagami gives him another soft kiss, two for good measure, before slowly leaning away.

Aomine opens his eyes , and can’t hold in his quick intake of breath. He’s so close. Kagami’s beautiful lips are red and his eyes are half-lidded and he’s so gorgeous Aomine can hardly believe it.

“Taiga,” he breathes, half a bewildered smile on his face.

“You’re an idiot.” Kagami whispers back, his voice rough.

“I am.” Aomine doesn’t hesitate to agree, his head is swirling and he feels like he’s jumping on clouds.  “You deserve way better than me, Taiga.”

“Mmmm.” Kagami hums, lifts a hand and cards his fingers through Aomine’s hair. He finds himself leaning into the touch. “Maybe so. Doesn’t stop me from liking you too.”

That’s all Aomine needs to hear before once more leaning over the table and finding Taiga’s lips with his.

\--

Kagami doesn’t forgive him right away. What he had said was truly awful, regardless of how much truth it held, and hurt Kagami deeply. It's going to take time. Time for the trust that had grown between them to rebuild, time for Kagami to heal and move on. But Aomine's more than happy spending as much time as he can making it up to him.

For starters, he starts bringing gifts with him whenever he shows up at Kagami’s house. Store- bought whole rotisserie chickens (since he’s probably worse at cooking than Satsuki), pre-made cakes, little Christmas presents he leaves under the tree for Kagami to open on the big day.

Kuroko’s viciousness doesn’t change overnight either. Even though Kagami is more or less as civil as he’s always been with Aomine, Kuroko and Kise express their displeasure as passive-aggressive protests. Aomine’s usual chair in the living room in front of the TV is suddenly the storage area for laundry, the kitchen is suddenly devoid of barbecue chips and stocked with an abundance of salt and vinegar. At dinner time, the two of them run to the kitchen, taking Aomine’s favorite seat at the table before he can take it for himself. He takes all of this with nothing more than an eye-roll; he suspects they don’t actually care so much that he’s back, but plan on teasing him for as long as they can draw out.

Meanwhile, Satsuki is over the moon. She had felt reservations about visiting the Kagami-Kuroko-Kise household without Aomine, so during the few weeks that the house was off-limits to him, Satsuki stayed away as well. Now that Aomine is more or less welcome to come over, she often comes along, chatting their ears off and commenting intelligently on the basketball games on TV.

And speaking of the _basketball._ It’s a relief unlike anything Aomine’s ever known. The tightness that had been wound up in his body snaps like a rubber band; he feels like he could play for the rest of his life without stopping with his pent-up energy. Kagami’s a more challenging opponent than ever, his insane jumps so ridiculous he dunks from past the free-throw line, repeatedly, as Aomine can only watch, breath caught in his throat in awe.

They don’t talk about what happened in McDonald’s—the kiss. They just carry on where they left off, like it never even happened. And while that’s originally exactly what Aomine had wanted, now that he knows the feeling of Taiga’s lips on his, he wants more of it. Aomine wants to bring it up, but he knows he’s not in the place to say anything, so he doesn’t. He’s going to have to wait for Kagami to make the first move. He can’t afford to screw up again.

On the night of Christmas Eve, Aomine comes over to Kagami’s house without his usual peace offering. He’s bundled up in a fleece navy jacket, snowflakes sticking to the fabric. He has to stomp his boots outside on the porch to unstick the snow from his boots before coming inside the house, the heat from the lit fireplace defrosting his nose, red from the cold.

“Yo, Taiga.” He says, removing his boots, hanging his coat on the rack, unraveling the scarf from around his neck and throwing it on the laundry-chair.

“Hey.”

Kagami’s laid out on the couch, doesn’t even crack open an eye as Aomine comes in. His face is serene, relaxed, free of any stress-lines and Aomine can’t stop himself from staring for longer than necessary. 

As Aomine plops down on the carpet between his once-was chair and the couch that’s supporting a lounging Kagami, the sleepy man next to him finally squints open his eyes, half of his face glowing with the soft orange light from the fire. It’s like he’s _trying_ to torture Aomine. It’s just not fair.

“Where’s my present? You always bring a present.” Kagami says, grouchy, pouting his lips and Aomine’s _this_ close to filing a formal complaint, this is clearly harassment.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong my friend,” Aomine grins, tilts to the side so he can dig in the back pocket of his jeans. He finally unearths a crumpled envelope, presents it to Kagami with a flourish.

“This is actually your official Christmas present, but I was too excited to wait until tomorrow,” he says, watching Kagami’s curious face closely as the other sits up, straightens out the envelope on the arm rest.

“An envelope? Wow, gosh, Aomine. You really outdid yourself.” He says drily, a wry smirk on his face.  Aomine rolls his eyes.

“Haha, very funny smartass. Just open the freakin’ thing already.” Aomine can’t help himself from leaning forward eagerly, his lip caught between his teeth anxiously as Kagami carefully slips his index finger under the tab, gently rips the top open. He reaches inside and takes out a piece of paper, unfolds it and straightens it out again on his leg. He has to squint and tilt the paper towards the light of the fire in the dim room as he reads.

“’We are pleased to confirm the reservation for the Captain’s Quarters guest suite at Beach Front Inn…thank you for blah blah…” His eyes skip over the page, eyes becoming wider the further he reads on. “…the reservation  has been made for the 5th of January until the 10th of January, we are looking forward to seeing you.’”

Kagami looks up at Aomine, disbelief coloring his face. “You booked us a hotel at the beach. In the middle of winter.”

“Oh my god, _Taiga,_ why’s the glass always gotta be half-empty with you?” Aomine groans, rests his head on the armrest next to Kagami, stares up at him pleadingly.

“The beach is even more fun in the winter! There’s no crowds, and I heard there’s a kind of scallop that washes up this time of year, and if it’s too cold we can play board games inside! And the place is big enough that we can _all_ go, Kise and Tetsu and Satsuki, there’s like three big beds and some pull-out couches!  I paid a lot for this and I’m looking forward to it, so can you _please_ get that stick out your ass and just thank me like a normal person?”

Kagami arches his eyebrow.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to lecture people about what’s normal or not.”

“That’s not the point.”

Kagami signs resignedly, runs his hand through his hair, smiles softly as he looks at the fire.

“Ok, fine. Thank you, Aomine. It’s a great gift and I’m excited. There. Happy?”

“Yes.”

And he is, and as he leans his head on the armrest and watches Kagami stare into the fire, he can’t believe his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Luxurious" by Gwen Stefani
> 
> this chapter was like pulling fucking TEETH omg you have no idea.  
> the good news is i obviously have internet now, the bad news is that school's started so now i have .01% free time, free time which i most enjoy watching netflix instead of being productive.  
> BUT! I'm also really excited for next chapter, for REASONS *nudge nudge, wink wink* so *hopefully* it'll be out soon! Thank you to everyone for being so understanding and encouraging I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU!!! 
> 
> I also have a tumblr, smileyeeyore.tumblr.com so COME TALK TO ME I ADORE TALKING TO PEOPLE.


	9. abracadabra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One surprise after another on Christmas Day.

That year, Kagami experiences one of the happiest Christmases in his known memory.

Growing up, alone in a big house with just him and his parents, Christmas hadn’t been what he had anticipated it to be, what the movies told him Christmas was supposed to be like. Their house had always been cold—while his parents could definitely afford the heat, his dad in particular had always been a pennypincher, thus most Christmas mornings Kagami got out of bed to be first greeted with goosebumps and numb toes.

His parents had decided to have him later in life, leaving him with only grown-up cousins, and even older aunts and uncles. Christmas dinners were a dull affair—grown-up talk, grown-up manners, no one willing to put up with a five year old boy crawling underneath the dining room table.

Later in Kagami’s life, once he got his own place with Kuroko, Christmases got better. The two of them never really put any effort into decorating, but they’d buy each other gifts, and it was always nice waking up to a warm house and feeling in his feet.

But the year that Kise and Momoi showed up, the year Aomine became a staple in his life, he finally understands the hype he’s been hearing about all this time.

When he wakes up Christmas morning, warm and cozy buried underneath his blankets, the first thing he does is look outside his window. It had snowed again last night, and the fresh blanket had coated all the gray slush in the streets, leaving a pure and white field and Kagami is overcome with the urge to roll in it. And it’s Christmas, why shouldn’t he treat himself?

He puts on all the layers he can fit: two thick woolen sweaters underneath his waterproof jacket, sweatpants under his snow pants. He carries his boots with him downstairs, sits on the bottom step as he puts on his socks and boots.

“Where are you going?” says a soft voice. Kagami looks up, sees a sleepy Kuroko wearing plaid pajama bottoms and an oversized sweater with a coffee mug in his hand. Kagami thinks he can smell the eggnog-flavored creamer.

“I’m gonna go play in the snow for a little bit. We have to wait for the others to get here anyway to open presents. You’re welcome to join me.” Kagami says, excitedly wrapping his scarf around his neck.

Kuroko gives a gentle smile, eyes slightly droopy, and shakes his head. “It’s alright. Thank you for the invitation, but I think I want to continue following my Christmas morning tradition.”

Kagami grins up at him. “Watching 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' for the thousandth time?”

“You know me so well.” Kuroko takes a sip from his mug, nudges Kagami’s thickly clad leg with his bare foot. “Don’t stay out too long. I know you’re bundled up but it’s better not to take any chances.”

Kagami chuckles, rolls his eyes so Kuroko can’t see.

“Yes, yes, _Mom_. I’ll be careful.”

Kagami finishes lacing up his boots and stands up, heads for the front door. “Don’t eat anything. I’ll make breakfast when I get back.”

Kuroko makes a soft happy noise behind him, and Kagami smiles to himself as he steps outside.

The cold feels almost like a punch to the face. Immediately, his exposed skin—his cheeks, nose, lips, all start to tingle as he stands on the front porch and looks out into the quiet white morning.

There’s just so much. It’s overwhelming. He doesn’t even know where to start. He wants to just mess all of it up at once, while at the same time the thought of breaking up the pristine blanket in front of him is just plain appalling.

He takes a moment to just appreciate this alone time, the twinkle of the ice crystals reflecting with the sun, the silence almost a pressure in his ears.

He walks down the front steps carefully, savoring each crunch his boots make. At the last step, he leaps off into the yard, and just starts running. The snow reaches to his knees, and he has pick up his feet extra high to clear the snow and he feels like a ridiculous bumbling deer, but he keeps loping until he reaches what he thinks is the middle of the street and falls, flat on his back, breathing hard and staring up at the grey sky. 

He’s just happy to lay there, his body protected amongst all his layers, and look up at the flakes slowly falling down, the build-up on the branches of trees that line the street.

He’s not sure how long he lays there. He’s starting to feel the rumble of hunger in his stomach, and is debating going inside before getting scolded by Kuroko and making a snowman, when he hears the approaching low growl of a car engine. He sits up, cringes as some snow on his back slides down into his pants, and watches as the familiar car rolls up alongside the curb and parks.

He also hears the bickering voices before he sees them. Aomine gets out of the car first, his face irritated, forehead furrowed and eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“… up after him, Kise. I’m not gonna deal with my car smelling like shit. I don’t care how _cute_ he is—“

“AH! KAGAMICCHI! A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!”

Still sitting in the little shallow hole he made in the middle of the street, Kagami watches as Kise waves merrily, a hat covered with little tinkling bells covering his head. Aomine whips around, finally notices Kagami sitting in the middle of the snow-covered street.

“What the hell. How long have you been there?”

“The whole time, Sherlock. How do you have driver’s license yet don’t notice someone when they’re sitting in the middle of the road?”

Aomine scowls, his cheeks turning pink with the cold.

“Oh, piss off. If you must know, I was distracted because Kise’s do—“

“Oooookay! Aominecchi, Kagamicchi, I have a few last-minute gift situations to take care of, so why don’t you two go inside and I’ll meet you there in a minute?” Kise says, making elaborate gestures with his arms, even bigger than usual, and Kagami wonders if he’s trying to be distracting on purpose.

“Fine.” Aomine shrugs, leans back in the car to pull out a pile of wrapped boxes, balances them on one arm and slams the door shut.  “Just remember what I said about the shit, Kise. I’m serious.”

“And I said I’d take care of it! Now go with your little love muffin and get inside, it’s freezing out here!”

Aomine stops cold, his eyelid twitching as his face flushes red. Kagami pretends he didn’t hear anything, makes a loud groaning noise as he stretches his arms over his head, gives a parting appreciative glance at the sky before heaving himself up, brushing the snow off his pants and jacket.

“C’mon. I’m gonna make cinnamon rolls.”

He starts making his way back the house without pause, listens as Aomine starts to follow him, the obscenities he’s muttering under his breath partially obscured by the rhythmic crunch of his boots in the snow. 

As Aomine catches up to walk next to him, Kagami gives him a glance out of the corner of his eye. He can’t help but think that it’s cute how red Aomine’s nose gets when it’s cold out.

“Why were you talking about shit?”

Aomine groans, begins taking his gloves off before they reach the front door.

“Just…don’t worry about it. It'll make sense later.” 

Kagami shrugs, not really caring, and opens up the front door.

“I’m back! And the two losers are here!” Kagami yells into the house as he steps inside, removing all his winter gear and moving aside to give Aomine room to do the same.

Kuroko appears, now looking considerably more awake and dressed in a fuzzy red Christmas sweater, adorned with tiny little bells and Kagami comes to the horrifying realization that Kuroko and Kise have coordinated their outfits.

Deciding not to delve too deeply into that, Kagami heads for the kitchen, trusting for Aomine to settle down on his own.

The thing with Aomine—that was a situation Kagami wasn’t fond to delve too deeply into either. He knows he let his emotions carry him away that evening in McDonald’s . Nothing that happened was something Kagami had prepared for in the slightest. Every move, every word; they had been foreign and strange and had made Kagami feel like he had stepped into an alternate dimension. One where Aomine Daiki cries and talks about his feelings and confesses to having a crush on him. In that moment, his heart had swelled up like a balloon, because _yes, it wasn’t just him, Aomine liked him too._ And after that he really couldn’t be held accountable for his actions. He doesn’t exactly regret kissing Aomine, he just kind of wishes he hadn’t.

He supposes that is in fact the definition of regret, but it just wasn’t the right word. He loved kissing Aomine. It had felt so right, and his lips had been very soft and warm, and he had been over the moon that all his nasty unrequited feelings over the past few months weren’t unrequited after all.  But he’s worried that he left Aomine with expectations that he can't fulfill.

Because he doesn’t know where he wants to go from here.

He’s done with any revenge he might have wanted before. That’s not an issue anymore. He’s not going to just let Aomine get away with what he said without any retribution; Kagami’s going to make him do some more harmless groveling and sucking up until he’s satisfied, but he doesn’t want Aomine to suffer.

He saw Aomine cry and blubber like a toddler. And it didn’t feel like he was being avenged.  It had felt like standing by as some brat kid threw rocks at a baby bird stuck on the ground. It didn’t feel like it had been fair, it didn’t make him feel any better. At that point, he would have done anything just to see Aomine smile again.

But at the same time, he’s not ready for them to take the next step.

So what, would they become boyfriends? Kagami can honestly say the notion doesn’t repulse him like he thought it would. But there’s a part of him, niggling in the back of his mind that says the moment Aomine gets what he’s wanted this whole time, he’ll get bored and move on. Kagami wants to tell himself to knock it off, to have some faith in Aomine, but it’s hard, especially after the trust that crumbled after the incident.

So he’s at a roadblock, not willing to push Aomine away and not wanting to move forward either. As Kagami bustles around the kitchen gathering his supplies, he guesses he needs some sort of catalyst, something to propel him in either direction. But for now, he supposes all he can do is enjoy the time he has with his friends, and try to forget about his personal issues, if only for the day. 

Kagami had prepared the dough and frosting the night before. He pre-heats the oven, removes the frosting he made from the fridge to warm up. He grabs a sauce pan, throws in a couple sticks of butter to melt on the stove. He’s looking in the pantry for a jar of cinnamon sugar when he hears Kise come inside.

“Kurokocchi! I have a big surprise for you! Kagamicchi, come here! I want you to see too!”

Kagami sighs, quickly rinses some butter off his hands and wipes them on his apron before following the noise into the living room, Kuroko and Aomine standing by Kise at the door in a half-circle. Kagami thinks it’s weird—Kise’s front is facing the door, holding something in front of him, but his upper half is swiveled around to face the others. If his gift’s already in a box, what's the point in hiding it?

“Everybody here? Good! Ok, here he is! Merry Christmas Kurokocchi!” and Kise turns all the way around, an enormous grin on his face, hat a-jinglin’, and Kagami notices there’s a small black and white shape in Kise’s arms.

Kagami doesn’t even coherently process what’s in front of him, how he feels about it, and before he’s caught up to his brain he already finds himself in the kitchen pantry, holding the knob closed with quivering hands. He doesn’t understand why his heart is pounding a mile a minute and cold sweat has broken out across his whole body, all he knows is that he’s not leaving this pantry soon. He’s got a lot of food in here, he could last a while. Water might be an issue eventually, but Kagami figures he could stand a few days without hydration. It’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make, if he never has to be within ten feet of that _thing_ ever again.

He hears cooing coming from the front room, little gibberish noises coming from Kise and grudgingly soft praise from Aomine. Kagami can see in his mind’s eye the quietly stunned and blissful Kuroko, too happy for words.  It’s another minute before anyone notices he’s gone.

“Uh, where’d Taiga go?” Aomine’s voice is muted and dull through the wood, but Kagami can hear the confusion.

“Yeah, he was just here! I didn’t see him leave! Kurokocchi?”

“Hmm? Oh, right. I forgot. Kagami-kun has a strong…aversion to dogs. I believe he might be hiding somewhere right about now.”

He's waiting for a loud booming laugh, waiting for Aomine to say something about how ridiculous he is, but nothing comes. 

“Really? Taiga’s afraid of dogs? Since when?”

“I believe he was bitten once, as a child. Aomine, go find him. I’m sure once the two are acquainted he’ll feel differently. “

Kagami tenses as he hears Aomine pad towards the kitchen. He’s not opening the door for anyone.

The steps pause outside the pantry, and Kagami curses to himself as he realizes the light would be visible from underneath the door. He hears a light knock on the wood.

“Taiga? You in there?”

“Go away.”

“Come out. Don’t you want to open presents?”

“No.”

“What about my cinnamon rolls?”

“I don’t care.”

“Come on. I promise I won’t let him hurt you, ok? You don’t even have to touch him.”

Kagami opens his mouth to rebuttal, _no way in hell,_ but hesitates.

“...you promise you won’t let him touch me?”

“Yes, Taiga. I swear.”

Kagami takes a deep breath and relaxes his punishing grip on the doorknob, turns it slowly and opens the door a crack to peek outside. Aomine is leaning against the counter opposite, arms crossed and face serious. Upon seeing Kagami, he stands up straighter.

“C’mon. Just say hi to the little guy and then you can come back in here and ignore him for the rest of your life.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible if it’s gonna be living in my house.” Kagami mumbles, opening the door a bit wider, feeling out his body, on alert for any impromptu fainting episodes or premature heart attacks. Feeling like he’ll pull through, he lets Aomine lead him back into the living room. Kuroko and Kise are sitting together on the couch, the devil incarnate sitting happily on Kuroko’s lap, nuzzling his hand and jumping up to lick at his face. Kagami decides he’s close enough and stops, a good ten feet between them, and watches as the two fawn over the thing. Aomine pauses, looks over his shoulder at the immobile Kagami. He raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, just plops down to sit cross-legged on the floor. Kuroko looks up finally at Kagami, practically sparkling, and beckons him to sit next to him on the couch.

“No, I’m good. I’ll stay right here.”

Kuroko gives him a sad smile, scratching the dog behind the ear. “Kagami-kun, I would like you to help name him. I think it would be easier if you got a good look.”

Kagami makes a low whining noise low in his throat, shuffles from foot to foot. “Can’t you just take a picture and send it to me or something?”

He's met by a hard look, and Kagami sighs before shuffling his feet slowly forwards. He stops a few feet from the couch, needing _some_ kind of buffer, and watches warily as Kuroko picks up the puppy in his arms to face him forward.

Kagami nearly does a double take. He looks at the dog’s face, up to Kuroko’s, and back again, and his mind is scrambling to come up with some explanation but he can’t come up with one, so he can only gape as he wheezes out, “Holy shit. Kuroko, he looks just like you.”

It’s true. The frosty blue eyes are nearly identical, the shape, the slight droop of the eyelids, the expressiveness. Kuroko turns the dog back to face him, squints, and Kise leans over to do the same. He lets out a gasp. 

“You’re right! Kurokocchi, you two are twins!” And then he starts laughing, his hat jingling furiously, and he rolls onto his side on the couch and presses his face into the cushions. Aomine gets up from off the floor and sits on the arm rest next to Kuroko, examining the dog’s features closely. His eyebrows go up, lets out a breathy laugh.

“Well that’s just fucking freaky. You should just call him Tetsuya #2.”

Kise’s head pops back up, his face flushed and eyes glistening with tears, and through his wheezing giggles he manages to say, “That’s p…perfect, A-Aominecchi! We could call him Nigou for sh…short!”

Kuroko looks at the puppy thoughtfully, his lips very slightly pursed. “I must say, I’m unable to see any resemblance.” 

Kise sits up straight again, looking outright offended.

“Kurokocchi! Are you blind! This is nothing short of a miracle! Kagamicchi, tell him he’s being ridiculous!”

Kagami starts edging back towards the kitchen casually, pretends to retie his apron. “Uh, well, the oven is probably preheated by now, I should really get the cinnamon rolls in there…”

Kise frustratedly hits his fists on his knees, pouting.

“Kagamicchi, stop running away and back us up!”

Kagami rolls his eyes. “Honestly, I want nothing to do with this. Name him whatever you want— just leave me out of it. I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

And he spins around and marches away. He keeps himself busy to forget about “Nigou” sitting in his living room, _sitting on his furniture._ He starts baking the dough, keeps the stove on low heat to keep the butter melted, digs in the pantry to find the cinnamon he was hunting before he was interrupted. There’s nothing else he can do except wait for the rolls to finish, so he decides to risk it and wander back to the living room.

He takes his preferred spot sitting against the opposite wall from the two coddling their child across the room. His limbs feel weak and he wonders if he’ll just have to sit here for the rest of his life, watching in horror as that dog gets bigger and bigger and pees all over his belongings. Kagami’s not surprised when Aomine gets up and sits on the floor next to him, their sweater sleeves touching and Kagami finds comfort in the warm closeness. Looking out on the scene before him, he’s struck with a realization.

“Wait, hold on. Where’s Momoi?” 

Aomine chuckles next to him, digs an elbow into his side and Kagami swats at his shoulder until he retreats.

“And you were making fun of me for lacking observation skills.”  Aomine says teasingly, the other two completely oblivious to any conversation and staring at Nigou like he just turned water into wine. “Her parents wanted her to be with them for Christmas, so she left for home two days ago.”

“Oh. And she was so hyped up about having an American Christmas, too." Kagami sighs at the loss, turns to look at Aomine, who’s fiddling with a string on the hem of his sweater, a small wistful smile on his face.

“How come you didn’t go with her? Aren’t you from Tokyo?”

Aomine looks up at him, licks his lips uneasily. “Uh, yeah. We all are—me and Kuroko and Kise. I’m sure you knew that. But, uh, I’ve never been super close to my parents. So I figured it’d be best if I stayed put this year.” Aomine shrugs, nudges Kagami with his shoulder. “What about you Taiga? Where’re you from?”

Kagami cocks a brow, nudges Aomine back. “Haven’t we had this conversation before?”

“Probably. Couldn’t hurt to get a quick review.”

“I guess I’m from Tokyo too, but I didn’t live there too long. I told you that lived in LA for a while, right? I was there all throughout middle and high school and once I got back to Japan I just came here. And I’ve been here since.”

“What about your parents?”

“You couldn’t pay them to leave LA.”

Aomine laughs out loud at that, leans his head against the wall behind them.

“They sound cool. I’d like to meet them sometime.” 

“I'm sure they'd like that. _I'd_ like that.” Kagami says softly, watching Aomine’s eyes flicker. Their eyes meet, and Kagami feels his stomach flip, because Aomine’s face has gone serious again. He leans the tiniest bit closer, lowers his voice so that Kise and Kuroko would have to strain their ears to hear.

“Hey, Taiga. Are we ever going to talk about what happened the other day?” he murmurs, his almond-shaped eyes not leaving Kagami’s face, roving over his expression.

Kagami swallows dryly, unable to break the eye contact, trying to search for the appropriate words.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” He whispers back a little desperately, watching the others in his peripheral vision, ready to lean back at any moment lest they’re caught in this close proximity.

He’s expecting Aomine to be frustrated, for his features to harden in a scowl, but all he sees is sadness as Aomine gives a shallow nod, leans away and turns his head to face Kise and Kuroko again. Kagami wants so badly to just give Aomine what he wants, but he can’t. The risks are too great. He turns away as well, feeling guilty. Maybe Aomine had been right. Maybe he _was_ a tease.

Kuroko leans over to give Kise a chaste kiss on the lips, briefly nuzzles their foreheads together.

“Thank you again, Kise-kun. I love him.”

Kagami is surprised by a pang of jealousy for the first time since Kuroko and Kise got together. Why couldn’t everything be easy like that for him? Why did this thing going on with Aomine have to be so murky with uncertainty and fear?

Kuroko resituates Nigou more comfortably on his lap, gestures towards the fairly impressive pile under the tree. “While we wait for breakfast, why don’t we start opening presents?”

 

\---

 

They spend the rest of the day eating and laughing. For once, Kagami is in a perpetual state of fullness, his whole body warm and drowsy. The cinnamon rolls had turned out perfectly, and as soon as they’re gone Kagami goes to work preparing gyoza and curry and rice, and later he breaks out the strawberry cakes. The food just keeps coming as they play with their presents and lay around watching Christmas movies on TV, and Kagami can't remember a better Christmas, surrounded by friends and food and good conversation. 

It’s later in the evening when 'White Christmas' is playing, Kagami as far away from Nigou as possible and playing with his phone, reading his friend’s Christmas statuses that the second bomb of the day drops.

Kuroko and Kise are on the couch as usual, Kise’s head in Kuroko’s lap as the latter combs his fingers though the blond silky hair, Nigou squished between their bodies and the back cushions, sleeping like a log.

“Kise-kun, I have another present for you.” Kise drowsily looks up at Kuroko, a slow smile on his lips.

“What? Really? How come you didn’t give it to me this morning?”

“I feel that especially with you, excitement should be spread evenly throughout the day.”

“And that’s why I love you; you’re so smart Kurokocchi. “ Kise grins and sits up, disturbing Nigou who lets out a little whine, trying to tuck himself back into their warmth. Kuroko leans over to the coffee table, picks up a small rectangular box Kagami hadn’t noticed before then. There are a bunch of curlicue ribbons on the top in red and green, the wrapping paper a simple design of reindeer.

“Ohh what could it be, what could it be…” Kise singsongs, rips the paper off ruthlessly. His eyebrow arches, reaches inside and takes out a little figurine—it’s Mickey Mouse, his arms spread wide and smile huge.

“Oh, this is very sweet Kurokocchi. But I don’t think you had to wait this whole time to give him to me.” Kise says, and Kagami wants to smack him for his lack of tact. 

Kuroko rolls his eyes, softly swats at Kise’s arm. “There’s more in the box. Idiot.”

“Hmm?” Kise looks back inside, wrinkles his brows and pulls out a couple pieces of paper. He starts reading for all of a second before the house erupts in a cacophony of screams.

“DISNEYLAND? Oh my god! Oh my god, Kurokocchi! Kurokocchi!”  Kise’s off the couch, running around in circles, the papers glued in front of his eyes as he screams. Nigou starts barking, and Aomine groans from where he’s sat by Kagami.

“Oh my god, Kise, if you don’t shut up within the next two seconds I swear to god—!”

“Kurokocchi! I love you I love you I love you this is the best present I’ve ever gotten!” And there are genuine tears running down Kise’s face as he dives back on the couch, buries his face in Kuroko’s stomach and sobs. There’s a soft, fond smile on Kuroko’s lips as he guides Kise’s face away from his stomach, a wet blotch already staining the fabric. He wipes at Kise’s eyes, murmuring things Kagami can’t hear, but Kise is sniffling and nodding, his smile wet and wavery.

“Well, not that this isn’t entertaining, but when are you guys even going? I gotta plan my days off around Kise’s.” Aomine grumbles, his face sour and Kagami knows him well enough by now to know that he’s jealous out of his mind. Kagami’s feeling a little left out himself.

“Oh, well let me just check…” Kuroko pries the tickets out of Kise’s grip, tries to smooth them out a bit.

“We’ll be there from the fifth of January till the tenth.”  Kagami’s stomach drops, and he can’t remember why those dates are important, but he can’t be the only one because Aomine shoots up, face indignant and hands balling into fists.

“But that’s when we’re all supposed to go to the beach together!”

“Oh, that’s right. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun, I’m sure you’ll have fun without us.”

Kagami knows at once this isn’t a coincidence. It just can’t be. The mind of Kuroko Tetsuya is a steal trap. Names, dates, places, numbers—he can hear them once and they’re there, in his brain, for all eternity. The fact that he conveniently forgot the dates for an important trip is just not possible. Kagami wants to call him out on it, but knows that doing so will call attention to the problem—a beach getaway with just him, Aomine, and Momoi. He’s grateful that she’ll be there too, but the more people that are around, the better Kagami feels about not talking to Aomine about the kiss. 

“Fuckin’ traitors. I paid for it myself! Now we’ll have a bigger place than we’ll need. So much money…wasted…” Aomine whines , falls back onto the carpet, defeated.  Kagami shoots a meaningful glare at Kuroko, who blinks back at him innocently, holding Nigou in front of him like a shield.

Feeling a little guilty, Kagami nudges Aomine’s leg with his foot. Aomine lolls his head over, his expression dejected.

“Don’t make that face. It’s ok. We still have Momoi. The three of us will have a lot of fun!”

"Uh-huh. Whatever." 

Kagami turns back to Kuroko, mouths a few choice threats, and all he gets in return is a small triumphant smile. 

 

\----

 

Momoi cancels on them too.

She says that she’s having fun back home, that she wants to spend more time with her family. But as Kagami grits his teeth as he listens to her talk on the phone, voice sweet and coy, he gets that feeling he gets when he knows his life is being meddled with.

The air is sharp; cold and salty wind whipping against his face and even though Kagami’s not sick he still feels his sinuses open up. It’s freezing, the wind chill adding on top of it and Kagami can only hope that it'll calm down long enough for them to take a walk on the beach. They unload Kagami’s car in the parking lot, just taking out their bags for now, leaving the food and beach blankets in the back for a second trip. Aomine picks up their key from the office, and the two of them walk up wooden stairs, the paint chipped from years of sandy wind.

Walking into the room, Aomine immediately drops his bag and runs to the bathroom yelling about having to pee. Kagami takes a second to look around. There’s a lot of watercolor paintings of the coastline, dried out starfish propped up on bookshelves stocked with boring books no one would bother stealing. The back wall is basically one huge window, several chairs set out in front of it so you can watch the waves. Kagami wanders to what he thinks is one of the bedrooms, peeks inside. He thinks he’ll call dibs on this one—it’s not too huge, but the bed is big and looks very comfortable. He thinks that his feet might not even hang off the edge. He turns to exploe some more, but stops abruptly. He takes stock of the room, realizing belatedly that it’s a lot smaller than he was expecting from Aomine’s description. The kitchen is right next to the entry way, then the small living room in front of the big windows. There's a door among the windows that leads out onto a small balcony. The bathroom is directly on the right, and Kagami’s standing on the left, in front of his bedroom. He can’t find any other doors.

The realization dawns on him. There aren’t any more doors, because this is the only bedroom.

He can only stand there, frozen, not moving even as Aomine leaves the bathroom, wiping his wet hands on his jeans.

“So, what do you think?”

“What the _fuck_ , Aomine.”

Kagami turns around sharply, his nostrils flaring. Aomine looks back at him, bewildered.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got two seconds to explain.”

“Well, I can’t do that if you _don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong_!”

“You said there was going to be like three beds! There’s only _one_!”

Aomine freezes as well, his eyes darting from the one room beyond Kagami, then at the rest of the place, his face becoming more and more desperate as he finally comprehends.

“Fuck. Ohhh fuck.” He scrubs his face with his hands, looks off through the windows like he’s thinking really hard of a solution.

“Look, I didn’t plan this, I swear. The front office must have screwed up. Just…chill here, ok? I’ll go talk to them. “ And Aomine turns and walks briskly back out of the room, leaving Kagami to throw himself down into the lone couch and contemplate his luck. Everything just keeps spiraling out of control. When will anything go right?

He lies there, staring out the huge windows, watching the surf tumble and roll, at the seagulls getting thrown around in the air for the short while waiting for Aomine to come back. When he does, opening and closing the door quietly behind him, he’s a little pink in the face from being outside, his brows puckered in irritation.

“So I have some bad news.” He announces, sits in the chair adjacent Kagami’s couch, rubs at his cheeks to get some warmth in them.

“They said that another family has the room we were supposed to be in. They said it was a scheduling error and that they’re sorry, so I don’t have to pay for the first three days. So there’s that at least?” He laughs uneasily.

“But what about the room?” Kagami sits up, tucks his legs in closer to him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just sleep on the couch, ok? Sorry about all this.”

The apologetic expression on Aomine’s face is undoubtedly sincere. Kagami knows for certain that whatever ploy has been going on until now, Aomine’s not part of it.

Kagami’s been sitting on this couch for all of ten minutes and it’s already driving him crazy. It’s too short for his long limbs, the cushions lumpy. He thinks of Aomine sleeping here—Aomine, who has a couple inches on Kagami, sleeping on a lumpy old couch in a cold living room and the mental image is so pathetic he internally cringes.

Kagami’s silent, knaws on his lower lip, contemplates. “You…don’t have to do that.”

Aomine looks at him, questioningly, and Kagami has to look away, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

“As long as you don’t kick in your sleep, we can share. But no funny business, ok?”

Aomine blinks at him, his mouth slightly open. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Ok.”

Kagami’s starting to feel suffocating awkwardness, standing out on his skin like static electricity, and feels like he needs to move to get it out of his system. "Let’s go for a walk. See if we can find any of those shells you were talking about.”

Aomine grins, immediately begins chattering about the shells they should be able to find this time of year, gets up and heads for his coat and gloves lying out on the kitchen counter. Kagami hadn’t taken off his winter clothes, so he just heads to the door to put on his shoes.

As the two of them head out back into the cold, locking the hotel room door behind them, Kagami gets the strangest feeling of premonition.

Like he could sense the steady approach of a catalyst.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled a Free! and now they have to share one bed. OOOHH can you say cliché? SUE ME I DOn'T CARE.  
> Remember way back in the day when I would post a new chapter almost EVERY DAY? Thinking about it just baffles me.  
> I keep lying about what's happening in future chapters, so just take what I say in these things with a grain of salt, because my plans change constantly. 
> 
> "Abracadabra" by Brown Eyed Girls. If you've never seen the music video I highly suggest you do it is a RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr! smileyeeyore.tumblr.com (°∀°)b


	10. sugarcane in the easy morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So arrives the catalyst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really quick warning for this chapter!! If you get uncomfortable with water or people struggling to swim, drowning, etc, that kind of thing, you have henceforth been warned! *menacing music*

—Five Days Ago—

Kagami’s finally able to corner Kuroko on New Year’s Eve.

To celebrate, the four of them all go to a private party hosted by the strip club, exclusively put on for the club's dancers, bouncers, bartenders, and general staff.  Since they spend most of their time at Kagami and Kuroko’s house, Kise had suggested that they shake things up a little and take the celebration elsewhere. It’s surprisingly classy, the music not deafening, giving people a chance to actually talk to one another.  The place is dim like usual, but there are colors everywhere, shiny streamers and multi-colored lights strung along the walls, potted poinsettias on each table. The main stage is covered with the black velvet curtains, giving Kagami a strange sense of relief that there won’t be any of _that_ kind of dancing tonight.There are several large TVs hanging on the walls Kagami didn’t notice the first time he was here, all tuned to the same channel of a program broadcasting a countdown to the new year.

Kise immediately sees some of his coworkers hanging around the bar and dashes over in a flurry of confetti and air horns, already pretty drunk and, if it’s possible, even more friendly than usual. They watch him with varied expressions of amusement and mild irritability. A few of the people by the bar spot Aomine and wave him over, and with a conflicted look at Kagami he slumps away, a murmured “I’ll be right back,” in his wake.  Kagami sees his chance and takes it.

It hasn’t been easy finding an opportunity to properly accuse Kuroko of his crimes. After Christmas, Kagami had found that the other man was more slippery than usual. When he wasn’t protecting himself with Kise’s presence (which was most of the time) Kagami noticed that Kuroko all but disappeared. He knows that he never actually becomes invisible, but it was hard not suspecting so when he just _knew_ he was lurking somewhere in the house but he couldn’t be found. He had even resorted to following Nigou around, hoping the dog would be able to sniff out the in-home fugitive, but with no luck. The only logical explanation Kagami can think of is that Kuroko has somehow upgraded his misdirection to include traveling alternate dimensions.

He grips Kuroko by the elbow and tows him towards a less populated corner of the room, pleased that he feels very little resistance, though he does hear quiet and half-hearted protests coming from behind him. Satisfied that their conversation won’t be overheard, Kagami spins around and faces Kuroko with a scowl, arms folded, and is very annoyed to see that he looks decidedly not guilty.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kagami snaps, trying to look as fierce as possible.

Kuroko looks off to the side, face carefully blank. “I don’t—“

“Cut the bullshit. You know what I’m talking about. You promised you wouldn’t meddle anymore.” Kagami all but snarls, wants to get a reaction but is once again disappointed. Kuroko sighs.

“No, I believe I promised that I would never make you do anything against your will again. Kagami-kun, you are going on this trip of your own free will. I am not forcing you to do anything. I simply pushed you in the right direction.”

Kagami throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

The other continues to be looking very interested in the colorful table decorations as he murmurs quietly, “If you don’t act soon, you may lose him.”

Kagami starts, draws to a blank. “Lose who?" Kuroko finally looks at him very pointedly, all but rolls his eyes in irritation.

" _Wha—_ lose  _Aomine?”_

A small nod. 

Kagami laughs incredulously. “What the hell are you talking about? How can I lose him if he’s glued to my hip twenty-four seven?”

Kuroko sighs again, looks like he’s trying to be patient as he nonchalantly surveys the room. “If that’s true, where is he right now?”

“He’s—….uh...” And Kagami turns to the bar, where the object of conversation was hanging around just moments ago, but he notices that there is a distinct Aomine-shaped hole missing from the spot at the counter next to Kise. “Huh.”

Kagami cranes his neck around, searching, and he finally spots him leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed lazily over his chest, looking bored but somewhat amused as a giant man hovers over him, grinning wolfishly and Kagami can tell just from his body language that whatever the conversation’s about, it’s not PG-13.  The man is huge, bulky and aggressively muscled, hair shorn short, his smile so obviously suggestive he makes Aomine’s signature smirk look innocent.

“Who’s that?” Kagami growls, narrowing his eyes and his stomach twisting in a strange type of anger.

“I believe his name is Nebuya-san. He’s another dancer who works here.”

Kagami’s transported to a conversation several months ago, his skin radiating warmth after a shower, sitting on the chair in the living room as Aomine babbles on about body hair and sexual identities. He recalls hearing that name, knows that he doesn’t like the way the hair on the back of his neck bristles as he looks at him.

“Aomine’s had sex with that guy before.” He says flatly, eyes taking in every subtle movement, the light, drunken touches that are laden with underlying meaning and his fingers twitch, itching to do _something,_ but he can't.

“Hmm.”

He tears his eyes away from the hand sneakily brushing Aomine’s waist to glance down at Kuroko, who’s staring up at him with the smuggest expression he’s ever seen. He can't stop himself from shoving a hand against Kuroko's face, frowning sourly as he ignores the the muffled objections.

“Shut up. I just don’t like that guy. He gives off a bad vibe.” He looks back in time to watch as Nebuya leans in, and a pressure rises in Kagami’s chest, ready to burst, but Aomine laughs and ducks out of the way at the last second.

He lets out a big gust of air, tries to regulate his breathing, turns away again to look at anything else. He settles for watching Kise as he chats with a nervous-looking man at the bar. “I’m not Aomine’s caretaker. He can make his own decisions.”

He feels Kuroko’s fingers wrap briefly around his wrist before letting go again. “I’m not saying he can’t, Kagami-kun. What I’m trying to say is, how would his decisions make you feel?”

Kagami looks at Kuroko sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re jealous right now, Kagami-kun.”

“Am not!”

“What if told you that Aomine-kun is going home with Nebuya-san tonight?” 

Kagami opens his mouth, then closes it again, at a loss for words. “….he is?” He can only squeak quietly, his stomach plummeting and he desperately tries to deny himself that fact.

“No, this is a hypothetical scenario. See, but this is what I’m talking about.  You didn’t like that idea, did you?”

Kagami crosses his arms protectively. “Get to the point already.”

“What my point is, right now, you don’t have the right to be jealous over whomever Aomine-kun chooses to be with.”

“I told you, I’m not jealous!”

“You have been mooning over him for weeks, Kagami-kun. I am frankly baffled your relationship hasn’t progressed. It’s not fair to Aomine-kun, stringing him along like this. You need to make a choice.”

Kagami can just stare at Kuroko, feeling strangely lost, as the other finally turns to face Kagami directly, his face grave. 

“I was hoping a few days alone with him would help you make that choice.”

 

\--

 

This memory is what plagues Kagami’s mind as he currently strolls along an icy beach, watching with a kind of fond annoyance as Aomine scurries around from one lump lying on the ground to another, picking up anything from mostly-destroyed Chinaman’s hats to sea glass and random pieces of rope, only rarely finding anything actually worth the effort of bending over for.

Kuroko’s right, as always. Of course he is. Kagami had already been considering the possibility before they had that conversation; he had just tried not to think about it. That there would be other people in Aomine’s life who would be interested. And regardless of what he claims now, he would get tired of waiting for Kagami to come around. He’d find someone else, if Kagami didn’t act soon.

What’s he waiting for?

He looks around and finds a nice stick, bleached white with salt, picks it up to poke at a big clear blob. At the top there’s a slight orange coloration, but besides that it’s like a pile of jelly water, so clear he can see the sand and pebbles underneath.

“What’cha find, Taiga?” Aomine crouches down next to him, reaches out to prod the thing with his finger.

“A jellyfish.”

Kagami, losing interest quickly, begins digging a shallow hole in the sand with his stick. “Only touch the top, ok? It might not be totally dead and can still sting you.” 

“Huh. Ok.”

Kagami stands up straight, chucks the stick as far as it can go into the sea. He’s fairly proud of his distance when not a second later he hears a strangled yelp.

“Oh my god, Taiga, it _hurts_ , god it hurts!”

The jellyfish has been mysteriously flipped over, tentacle-side up, and Aomine is cradling his hand to his chest and whimpering pathetically.  Kagami purses his lips, considering, but then shakes his head and starts walking down the beach alone.

A horrified gasp sounds from behind him.

“Taiga, where’re you going? I’m grievously injured!”

Kagami turns, starts walking backwards. He gives Aomine a pitiless grin. “For some reason I’m unable to feel any sympathy.”

Aomine scrambles upright from his crouch, runs up to walk beside him, his lower lip trembling and giving deadly puppy dog eyes. “Help me.”

Kagami spins around again so he's walking forward, veers down closer to the shore to more easily walk on the more compact sand. He shoves his freezing hands in his pockets, wishes he had thought to bring a couple of hand warmers. “What do you want me to do about it? I’m not a doctor.”

Aomine then gasps as if reaching a revelation, turns to Kagami like he has the most ingenious idea ever. “Pee on me.”

Kagami wrinkles his nose, doesn't bother hiding the complete disgust in his voice. “What?”

“I heard on TV that if someone pees on your jellyfish sting it’ll feel better! Pee on me!”

“I can’t believe I just heard those words come out of your mouth. No, I’m not gonna pee on you Aomine. For one, it’s fuckin’ gross. And two, that’s just a myth. Just suck it up. It’s your own fault for never listening to me.”

“Heartless.” Aomine snivels, looks dejectedly off to the side, kicks at shiny black stones sitting on top of the wet sand. 

He knows he's getting played like a fiddle, but Kagami stops walking anyways and sighs, holds out his hand. “Let me see.”

Aomine eagerly shoves his hand forward and Kagami takes it with both of his. The skin is only very slightly red on the pads of his fingers, and Kagami wipes some of the sand away as Aomine bites his lip, his face scrunched up uncomfortably.  Kagami lets go, turns and starts walking again. “You’ll probably live.”

He hears a great dramatic sigh behind him, before it’s followed by an excited, “Oh, Taiga! Let’s go on that pier and look for whales!” His grievously injured hand forgotten, Aomine starts taking off towards a lone jetty sticking out into the waves. Kagami follows quietly, deep in his brooding thoughts.

The wooden posts are coated in a layer of snowy barnacles, the whole thing creaking rather ominously with the force of the waves. “This thing is sketchy as fuck,” he grumbles as he climbs the slimy stairs up to the top after Aomine, holding onto the rusty railings for dear life as his companion bounds fearlessly ahead of him.

“Oh, they have binoculars! Cool shit! Do you have any coins on you?” Aomine starts patting his pants pockets as Kagami digs out the small change he has in his jeans.

“Here. Go nuts.”

“Awesome!”

As Aomine inserts the coins into the machine Kagami looks around. The pier is pretty long, extending out several hundred meters out into the ocean. He starts walking down, close to the railing in case a strong wind decides it wants to try blowing him away, and looks down into the greenish depths below. He can’t see the bottom, just green-gray water, froth gathering at the wooden posts of the pier, a stray length of seaweed floating here and there.

The day has been pretty stormy so far, the wind not letting up at all as they had walked down the coastline. They had decided to walk in the direction of the wind to make the trip back easier, but the trek had been pretty miserable, having random sand grains and the wind blowing into their eyes as they walked, on top of the terrible cold. There had been very few other people, mostly older couples Kagami assumed actually lived here year-round.

He leans on the railing at the very end and stares out into the endless horizon, feeling like a big sulking baby. It seems like all he can think about nowadays are his problems surrounding Aomine. He should be living in the moment, enjoying the time he has to be with him, but it’s hard to do that when he catches Aomine staring at him adoringly every few minutes and a new wave of guilt overcomes him.

What _is_ he waiting for?

When he thinks about it, his hesitation makes no sense. There was no questioning his feelings. He _liked_ Aomine—he liked him a lot. He got the warm fuzzies, became tongue-tied and blushed to the tips of his ears from a single look. The whole shebang. Aomine had kissed him, he had kissed back. He had confessed, even if he hadn't delved too far into the depth of his affections.

He thinks about that moment; how he had felt so light as a feather, like he had  _won._ Like he had conquered a hurdle he never thought he'd be able to cross. He had been happy. 

And then he started thinking too hard, about the risks involved, about what could happen. How it would completely break him, if something went wrong.

He guesses that if he boiled everything else down, he was hesitating because he was afraid. 

Was it because of that one hellish night when both their lives went down the toilet, or was it coming from something else entirely? He  _wants_ to trust Aomine, he really does. But  _something_ about him—whether it was what he had said that night, or because of his character in general, Kagami doesn't know. What he does know is that he can't know for sure his glass heart wouldn't break the second he set in in Aomine's hands. 

He supposes that for him, for him to gain complete peace of mind, he needs proof. Of what? Aomine's sincerity? A part of him knows he's being childish. He knows that  _some_ blind faith was required for them to work, but Kagami just couldn't summon that within him. 

He guesses when he gets right down to it, he's a coward. 

Kagami sighs at how pathetic he is, smooths his fingers over the rough grain of the wood, looking down as waves jump up to lick at the posts. His hands are starting to feel sticky from the salty wind, and it's making his eyes tired, his cheeks hot from the merciless slap of ocean air. 

It only takes a few minutes before he hears dull footsteps thumping behind him. “I couldn’t see any whales,” grouses Aomine moodily as he comes up next to Kagami, rests his arms on the wet wood as well. “Did you want to head back? I want some oden. I’m cold.”

“Mmmm. Sure. I can make some,” Kagami murmurs, pushes himself straight against the wobbly wooden beams, turns around and takes the first step forward. “We should pick up some daikon on the way, and I think I forgot to bring—“

But then he slips on the sliminess of the wood, losing his balance, and his back collides with the railing behind them. “Ah, shit”. He winces in pain, sees in his peripheral vision Aomine reaching out to him.

He’s only able to mourn his aching back for a second longer before there’s an ear-splitting crack, and he can feel the railing behind him give way from his weight. He tries to steady his feet but he’s already tipping backwards, and the wood beneath them is still slick, and before he can process what’s happening his stomach is flipping the way it does when going downhill on a rollercoaster— he’s weightless, and he looks up at the gray clouds above him.

Then all of the sudden he can’t tell which direction the sky is anymore and the air in his lungs is smacked out in a whoosh, his body in shock from the sudden cold. He’s surrounded by water.

He’s fallen into the ocean.

His first thought is that this wasn't really happening. This stuff doesn't happen to people in real life. This was some messed up dream, and he was going to wake up in his own bed, sweating and panting but unharmed. Except this feels so real, the panic sinking in his stomach like a stone, his back still dully throbbing and there's so much water pressing on his eardrums. 

He can’t tell which way is up, which way the surface is, and he desperately needs to breathe because the air’s been knocked out of him, but he can’t do that if he can’t find the surface. He kicks randomly, hoping that by some miracle he’s kicking his way up, his arms flailing wildly but feeling so slow, his thick winter clothes laden with salt water, weighing him down.

He tries opening his eyes, immediately recoiling as the salt burns them, and it’s useless because all he can see is blurry green and gray, flurries of angry bubbles flying all around him. He can see light and dark but he still can’t comprehend which way he should go.

In the small coherent part of his brain, he tries to ration out the best steps to take from here. The first is to find the surface, and it's surprisingly the most difficult. He doesn't know if he hit his head falling or if it’s just because he’s underwater but he’s so disoriented, and he’s trying so hard to keep his panic in check but the more the pressure in his airways builds up, the more that he’s desperate for air, the more it bleeds through his veins and he’s certain that he’s going to die.

Is this it? For some reason, it feels anticlimactic. And he has so much left to do, to resolve. He needs more time.  

But Kuroko will be fine, right? He has Kise to help him, and he's always been independent. He makes enough that he should be able to keep the house, and if he doesn't, then Kagami's sure Kise will find a way to pitch in. His parents have lived without him for years. They'll be sad, but they'll recover. As for his brother...well. He knows Tatsuya won't take the news well. But he'll live on. They all will. 

Aomine will live on. He has to. 

Kagami looks around, calm now that he sees this inevitable end. There's so many different shades of green, and he finds the varying tones of jade and olive beautiful, thinks that the quiet pressure in his ears is quite peaceful. His throat burns—he won't be able to hold his breath much longer.

He needs to take a breath.

Just as he parts his lips, watches the last of the bubbles from inside him float away and feels water rush in his mouth to take their place, from the direction of the light he sees a figure, reaching towards him. He holds out his hand towards them and they take it, their other hand gripping tight under his other arm. There’s movement, and water is rushing against Kagami’s face and his raw eyes, and the next moment there’s a change in texture on his face, mist and wind touching his skin instead of the constant pressure of ocean water. So then, he's not going to die? If he's not, then he needs to breathe now. He thinks that there might be air, but what if it’s a hallucination, what if when he tries to breathe in, he gets a lungful of salt water instead?

His mind is made up for him a moment later when a sharp slap stings across his face, forcing his mouth open and he takes a huge, gasping breath, and then another, sucking in air like it’s cocaine and it’s the last of it he’ll ever taste.  In his haste to get oxygen he’s temporarily blind, unaware of anything except his inhalations, but his vision is focused as a hand clamps on his jaw, forces his gaze right into midnight blue eyes, staring at him so intensely it’s like staring into the heart of a wild fire.

“Daiki…?” Kagami rasps, doesn’t want to believe that what he’s seeing is real right now, tries to keep his eyes focused on the ones in front of him even as they bob up and down.

“Taiga, Taiga, breathe, you need to calm down. Stop moving, I got you, ok? You’re safe.”

“W…what…” his mind won’t string together sentences; he focuses on a droplet of water clinging above Aomine’s lip.

“We’re still in the water.” Kagami finally manages, his panic spiking as he realizes it’s true, his boots aren't touching the ground, instead suspended above endless water, but before he can start struggling a pair of fingers is pinching his cheek, hard, and he frowns.

“Ow.”

“Taiga, you need to keep your cool, kay? I know you’re good at swimming. The shore is really close, if we take it slow we’ll be there in no time. We’ll be fine. Can you kick your legs?”

“Uh...” Kagami tries, finds that he can but it’s sluggish, his boots lead.  “Yeah.”

“Ok, good. Now, I’m going to let go of your arm, but I’ll keep your hand. Let’s start heading back.”

“Ok.”

Aomine lets go of Kagami’s arm, and he tries not to panic as he immediately starts sinking again, but the firm pressure in his hand helps keep the hysteria away. He kicks experimentally, is sick with relief as he’s pushed forward a foot, uses his other arm to help him, and the two of them start to swim, very slowly, back towards shore. Kagami’s finding it hard to breathe, his lungs feeling stiff, and he knows it’s not so much from exertion as it is from the all-encompassing cold. Again, he wonders if he’s going to die. He had been so close...

Before he can brood too deeply about that possibility, Aomine starts talking.

“Man, I can’t wait to g…get back to the hotel.  I don’t know about y-you, but I need a hot bath.”

Kagami glances over, notes the trembling of Aomine’s voice, but he’s smiling, the curve of his mouth quivering slightly as he looks forward. Kagami licks his lips, finds that they’re pretty numb and salty but he thinks he can use them.

“Y…you a-always need a b-bath.” He replies, haltingly. Aomine lets out a weak laugh, looks at Kagami from the corner of his eyes.

“You can be a little shit, y-you know that?”

Kagami smiles back, feels the water tickling at his chin, lets out a small yelp as a wave lifts them up and laps at their heads before passing.  But as they’re leveled out again, he notices that his boots have brushed against something, and his first thought is, _oh my god, we’re going to be eaten by a shark,_ but then he realizes that during their short conversation they've made a lot of progress and the shore is _right there,_ and Kagami had just touched his feet to the ocean floor.

He scrambles to get his feet steady beneath him, accidentally sucking in a mouthful of water in his haste, and as Aomine hauls him towards the bare sand ahead of them he coughs, salt scrubbing his throat raw. They trudge the last few feet and collapse on the compact and wet sand of the shoreline. They’re both breathing hard, Kagami’s breaths feeling wet and rattling as he can still feel a drop or two of water in his windpipe but he doesn't have the strength left to cough them up.

Now that they’re on dry land Kagami can see Aomine finally losing it, the panic he kept hidden in the water now evidently coloring his face and he kneels next to Kagami, runs his fingers up and down his face as if assuring himself he’s still there.  Kagami’s so numb he can barely feel anything touch him.

“Oh, my god. Shit. Shit. Ok. Taiga, c’mon, we need to go to the hospital. You’re so pale. You look terrible.”

“You’re not looking so hot yourself. What the hell were you thinking?” Kagami gasps, his body racking in shivers, his clothes heavy, laden with salt water and he wants to strip naked right here if it means he can be warm again.

“I wasn’t.” Aomine says, his arms moving like he wants to take off his jacket, but seems to reconsider and lets his arms hang at his sides instead, his hands resting on top of the sand as he tries to catch his breath.

Kagami hears yelling, the low rumble of a motor, and he looks over his shoulder to see a jeep barreling towards them, people dressed in bright orange outfits leaning out the windows and calling to them. He knows that it’s people that can help, and he tries to stand up but he can’t feel his legs so he just sits there, watching as the car pulls up close by and the people get out, running over to them.

The first one to reach them is a woman, small in stature but her eyes are fierce. “You were the guy that fell off the pier, weren't you? And you,” the woman looks sharply at Aomine, “were the one that jumped.”

She kneels next to Kagami, slaps a palm over his cheek, feeling his skin, takes his wrist and settles her fingers over his pulse, and he watches her lips as they mouth silent numbers. Her face relaxes slightly and Kagami wonders what that means. 

“C’mon, the both of you are showing symptoms of mild hypothermia. Let’s get you in the jeep and back to the station where you can warm up. I don’t think either of your lives are in danger at this point.” She says, standing and murmuring something into a walkie talkie strapped to her jumpsuit.

“Mmkay,” Kagami mumbles, lets the strangers tug underneath his arms, leans on them heavily as they walk to the jeep and he gets thrown in. Aomine soon follows, and even though he’s no warmer than himself Kagami can’t help but press close next to him and search for heat. 

He doesn't remember much of the ride back, his thoughts bordering on delirious and before he knows it he’s in a room, his icy shirt getting pulled over his head. They strip Kagami of all his sopping wet clothes forcefully, his fingers useless and numb. Towels are thrown at him, and he tries to help as they wipe down his naked body, but he feels like he’s just getting in the way and stops, lets them dry his hair and skin, shivering uncontrollably.

“It’s good that you’re shivering so much. It’d be worse if you weren't. Helps warm your muscles up.” The woman says matter-of-factly, wrapping a blanket so tightly around him he feels like a swaddled baby, lets them throw one blanket after another on him until he’s unrecognizable as human. Once the woman finally seems satisfied that he can't move his limbs, he gets led back into the main room, where she chucks him into a chair by the fire, instructs him to stay put. 

“Don’t get any closer than that. I know you wanna get warm but it’s dangerous to do it too quickly.” She says more softly, hands him a mug of what smells like hot apple cider. He manages to detangle his hand from the swath, takes the mug carefully, the heat almost painful and tingly against his numb fingers. 

“Drink that. It’ll warm you up from inside.”

“Where’s Daiki?” He asks, surprised at how scratchy his voice sounds. He’s starting to worry—he hasn't seen Aomine since they arrived here. What if he wasn't ok?

“Your idiot friend will be here in a minute. He kept insisting he could get his clothes off himself. So freakin’ stubborn.”

Kagami laughs, smiles fondly as he thinks that it was so like him.

The woman sighs, takes the black beanie off her head and chucks it onto a table. She quickly runs her fingers through short brown hair. “What’s your name?” she asks, sits in a chair adjacent from Kagami, kicks her feet out and closes her eyes, looking exhausted.

“Kagami Taiga. And I haven’t had the chance yet, but thank you so much. We probably would have frozen to death without you guys.” He says, forcing as much sincerity in his voice as possible. The woman cracks open an eye, waves her hand in his direction.

“Meh. Don’t mention it, it’s my job. But you guys were lucky. Some old lady walking on the beach saw you two go in and she called us. It could’ve been bad.” She says gravely, and Kagami nods, shivers as he recalls the suffocating chill of the ocean surrounding him.

He examines her outfit to distract himself, sees that she’s taken off her orange rubber coat from before, and now she’s just wearing the pants attached to suspenders over a black t-shirt. He realizes that he's being weird with his staring, so instead he asks in turn, “What's  _your_ name?”

She stretches her arms over her head, lets out a huge yawn. “It’s Riko. Aida Riko. Can I ask you something, Kagami-kun?”

“Of course.”

“Your friend. He by any chance a native of Tokyo?”

“Ah, yeah, he is.”

Her eyes open, albeit droopily, and stares back at him with some added interest. “He play high school basketball?”

“Yeah. His basketball…” He struggles for the right words, but nothing he can come up with is accurate. There aren't nearly enough adjectives fit to describe Aomine. He blows out a big breath, happy to notice that his thoughts are clearing now that he’s warming up. “It’s just… amazing.”

Riko nods, gives a weary smile. “I knew it. Aomine Daiki, right?” Kagami’s eyebrows shoot up, and he nods at her, the curiosity written across his face.

“Couldn’t forget that ugly mug of his if I tried. He was a monster.” She laughs, tousles her hair again, eyes watching a memory from a long time ago.

“Him and that nightmare team of his. We were only ever able to make semi-finals of nationals with them around. Could never dream of the championship. “ She sighs resignedly, smiles at Kagami more brightly, more friendly.

“In high school I coached a team myself. It was always an adventure, playing against Aomine Daiki and the Generation of Miracles. Bunch of assholes, but they played an interesting game.” She laughs.

“And their _manager._ Ugh, never met a more irritating woman in my life. But,” she pauses thoughtfully, squints up like she’s trying to catch a thought from slipping away.

“There was one guy on that team, can’t remember his face for the life of me, just no presence, you know? But he was a good sport. Always came over to tell us thank you for the game. I wish I could remember his name. He was a good guy, unlike _some_ people I won’t mention.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the back rooms, rolls her eyes in obvious distaste.

Kagami can’t help but chuckle at Aomine’s expense—once she got talking, while she was still intimidating as hell, Riko was good at holding a conversation.

“Try to give him a little bit of credit. He’s improved a lot, so I’m told.” Kagami says warmly, grinning, and Riko does as well, nods in understanding.

“I guess he must have. Not a lot of guys would go throwing themselves into the ocean to help out a friend.”

Kagami shifts in his seat, getting uncomfortable as the realization finally hits him, that _Aomine saved his life._ That he must have followed Kagami into the water within a matter of seconds.  Thinking about it makes something swell inside his chest, that unknown emotion he can't name, and he quickly switches his train of thought.

“Uh, so, that guy you mentioned? The one you can’t remember. His name’s Kuroko Tetsuya,” says Kagami, moves the topic back on track, takes the first sip of his hot cider and sighs as the liquid splashes into his belly, warmth immediately seeping through his insides.

“You seem to be very familiar with the Generation of Miracles,” says Riko, watching Kagami with interest.

“Ah, yeah, I guess. Kuroko and I have been roommates since college, and I met Kise, Momoi and Aomine this past August. Things have certainly been a lot louder.”

Riko out-right laughs at that, sits up a little straighter in her chair and turns so that she’s better facing Kagami. “What about Midorima Shintarou? He still around?”

“Uh, no, I’ve never met him, actually,” says Kagami, thinks the name sounds vaguely familiar, tries to place it to a face in the old pictures he’s seen.

“Ugh, you don’t wanna, trust me, he was just the worst. So freakin’ cocky, huge stick up his ass. And don’t get me started on that Murasakibara! Eating Ho-Hos during half-time, walking around like he didn't have a single fuck to give.”  She pauses, purses her lips, “Well, I’m sure that at the rate you’re going you’ll meet all of them in no time.”

As he’s considering this, pictures meeting more people from his friends’ pasts, the back room door opens and out shuffles Aomine, looking like a very angry caterpillar in a half-formed cocoon.

“Ah, there’s the little trouble maker!” Trills Riko as she grins and stands up from the chair, gestures for Aomine to take her spot. He grumbles but inches forwards, falls back into the chair, his hair stuck in little wet spikes and he shivers violently.

“I don’t think you guys’ll need a hospital visit, after you warm up you should be good. If you notice anything abnormal, then yeah, definitely go, but if not then I’d say you’re good to go in about an hour,” says Riko, fills another mug with hot apple cider from a pot, hands it to Aomine who mumbles thank you before knocking half of it down in one go.

“FUCK! That’s hot!” He sticks out his tongue, fans at it, tears glistening his eyes and Kagami can’t help but laugh.

“What did you expect? So stupid.”

“Oh, shut your pie hole, jackass,” Aomine sneers back, carefully blows at his mug before he takes another sip.

Riko watches them with amusement, walks over to a filing cabinet and takes out a set of papers. “But before you go, we’re gonna need you to file an incident report, just for the records, you know? We need to get the pier fixed, obviously," she pauses, thinks for a second, "or better yet, totally demolished, and your testament will help us out with the city council.” She looks up again, like she just realized something.

“Do you think you’d wanna press charges? I mean, that thing’s been in shit condition for a while. A judge would probably see it in your favor.” 

“Uh,” Kagami glances at Aomine for assistance, who looks like he has no intention of joining the conversation, just staring at Riko with a weird look on his face. “You know, I don’t think so. I kind of just want to forget it ever happened.”

 Riko nods understandingly, sits down at a nearby table and starts scribbling at the papers.

“Hey, lady.” Kagami glances at Aomine, who’s still looking at Riko, lips pursed. “I think I know you from somewhere.”

Riko looks up from her work, laughs and rolls her eyes. “I used to coach high school ball. Ring any bells?”

Aomine’s eyes widen, and for the first time in what Kagami feels is too long he grins, his bright white teeth chattering together. “Seirin.” Is all Aomine says, nodding at Riko with respect. Kagami half expects him to get up and offer her a fist bump.

A little slow on the uptake, Kagami just realizes what Aomine said. “Wait, Seirin, like the _restaurant_ , Seirin?” asks Kagami, looking from Riko to Aomine and back.

Riko smiles at him excitedly. “You know that place?”

Kagami nods, confused. “I work there.”

“Oh, then you must know Junpei! You know, Hyuuga? And Teppei. And Koganei…” she trails off, listing off the majority of Kagami’s favorite superiors and coworkers.

“All used to be my protégés.” She smiles fondly, taps her pen on the table idly. “Right outta high school Hyuuga decides he wants to start his own business, and of course Teppei follows him, they’re kind of a package deal, you know? And they start their own restaurant, name it after the team.” She laughs again. “They offered jobs to any of the younger kids looking for work out of high school. I must say, I’m surprised most of them have stuck around that long. Koganei never seemed to be a fan of cooking, but he either must like it or he’s too lazy to look for another job.” She stares wistfully out the foggy window, looking a little sad and nostalgic. “They’re so sentimental." She shakes her head fondly. "Oh, well. I’m glad to hear they’re doing well.” She turns back to smile at the two of them.

“Small world.” Is all Kagami can think to say, baffled by this coincidence, trying to picture his boss, Hyuuga, and head chef Kiyoshi relying on each other on the court. It’s surreal to think about, and he’s honestly surprised this is the first time he’s heard about it.

“Uh, not that this isn’t interesting, but can we do the paper thing now? I wanna get out of here as soon as the hour’s up. Not that I’m not grateful or anything…” Aomine bumbles around in his chair, looking uncomfortable about expressing his thanks.

Riko takes it in stride, laughs as she finishes up whatever she was scribbling and brings the papers attached to a clipboard over to the two of them, starts jabbing at various parts of the papers with her pen.

“Just describe the incident here, and then put your name, address, and phone number here, and if you have a license or any kind of approved ID you can put the number right there. When you’re done just leave it on the table. I’ve got other work to do, so I’ve gotta head to the back.” She gestures towards the doors behind them before handing the clipboard and pen off to Kagami. “I don’t want you two leaving until…” She squints at the watch on her wrist. “4:45. Got it?” They both nod, and Riko claps a hand on either of their shoulders.

“If I find out you skipped out early I’ll make sure Hyuuga punishes you accordingly. Well, I’ll probably see you guys around. I've been meaning to make a visit,” She winks at them before striding through the back door, and Kagami swears a powerful wind follows her out. _A force of nature,_ his brain supplies him. At the same time, the two of them look at each other, Aomine’s eyes wide and mouth turned downwards.

“She’s hella scary.”

\--

The second the two of them get inside the hotel room they rock-paper-scissors for the shower, and Kagami blessedly wins. He quickly takes a new pair of boxer briefs from his bag and locks himself inside, leaps into the shower and turns on the water.

He can’t turn it as hot as he wants to—he’s still sensitive and even the warm water feels like needles pricking his skin, but after a few minutes he’s able to turn it up to a temperature that warms him to his bones. He tries to be quick, taking pity on Aomine waiting for his turn miserably on the couch.  He hurriedly scrubs his body free of the stickiness of the salt, shampoos his hair to get out any sand.  Looking down at himself he can see his whole body is red and blotchy, irritated from the abrupt temperature change. He doesn't care—it’s just another sign that he’s alive.

As soon as he opens the door to the bathroom, the sweet-smelling steam spilling out after him, Aomine is slipping past him and closing the door, audibly groaning with relief.

Kagami makes his way to the little bedroom, toweling his hair dry, and once he’s there he lets himself fall on top of the bed, moaning with how good it feels to lay down. He finds the strength to kneel on top and peel the covers back before worming his way inside. It’s cold underneath, but he wiggles around to generate heat and soon he’s content. He feels like an overcooked noodle, limp and finally warm. He can feel his heart beat in his cheeks as he closes his eyes and relishes the softness of the nicely-worn flannel sheets, listening to the low murmur of the shower.

He could have died today, easy. But he didn’t, because Aomine saved him. He can feel the emotion bubbling up inside of him again but he tries to force it down—now’s not a good time. But then again, when _is_ a good time?

After what feels like seconds Kagami faintly hears the water being shut off and the scraping of the curtains on the rod. Another few seconds, and he can hear the bathroom door open and the soft padding of feet on the carpeting.

Kagami turns on his side to face the wall, is overly aware when Aomine slips beneath the covers himself and groans again in delight. Kagami can feel him moving his feet around at the bottom of the bed, trying to warm them or to feel the softness of the sheets, he doesn't know. All he knows is that is body is a live wire, too conscious of every movement, every breath and twitch of muscle. It only gets worse as he feels Aomine turn so he’s lying on his side behind Kagami, his breath billowing out onto the nape of his neck. His toes curl and he fights to calm down.

He doesn't know what to say. So he says the first harmless thing he can think of.

“So, what the fuck’s the deal with your hair? Like, why is it blue? Do you dye it, or what?”

Kagami cringes at his awkwardness, looks over his shoulder quickly, just to check Aomine’s reaction. He’s expecting Aomine to be staring at him incredulously at his random query, but his eyes are closed, face relaxed. His only physical reaction is to reply softly, lips barely moving, “Why you gettin’ all up on my ass about my hair being blue? Why aren’t you harassing Tetsu? Dude looks like cotton candy.”

Kagami turns back to face the wall, looks up at the different colored glass that make up the shade of the bedside table lamp. “Kuroko’s different. I _know_ he dyes it. You’re a mystery.”

Aomine grunts behind him, and Kagami feels fingers comb through the hair at the back of his head.

“What about you, huh? You look like a fucking firetruck. No way this’s natural.”

Kagami stiffens, indignant. “It is too!"

“I’m calling bullshit, Raggedy Ann.”

And Kagami can’t believe he falls for the jibe, flips around angrily to face Aomine and has the breath catch in his throat. Their faces are inches apart, Aomine’s breath now blowing warmly into his face. He’s triumphant, his lips curled in a coy, innocent smile. Kagami can’t hold in what he wants to say any longer.

“Why’d you jump in after me, Daiki?” he whispers, his hand unconsciously coming up to trace a finger over Aomine’s cheek, thinks to himself that it looks like the same color as the caramel toffees his grandmother used to keep on her kitchen table, but smoother and more beautiful.

Aomine shrugs, tilts his head just the littlest bit back into Kagami’s hand. “It’s not really a big a deal, so don’t make it into one. I was a lifeguard in high school. I mean, yeah, they tell you to never do what I did, but I think the circumstances were pretty special,” He grins at Kagami. “Don’t try that at home, kids.”

Abruptly Kagami’s angry. He takes his hand back, fists it in the fleece blanket.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not a big deal’?  What if you had died, huh? Would that have been worth it?” He bites on his tongue to focus on something else other than his anger and the face inches from his own.

Aomine’s serious now too, his eyes intense and searching, not leaving Kagami’s face for a single moment. “So, what? You’d have been cool dying, while I stood there and watched, completely fucking useless?” He says, quiet, but Kagami can hear the underlying controlled anger below the surface.

“Just let you drown, and then live a shit life until I die, knowing I could have done something? No fucking thanks.” He continues, his voice gaining volume but Kagami doesn't scoot away.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re on Taiga, but there isn't a consequence in the world I wouldn't take if it meant you got to keep your sorry ass on this Earth a little while longer.”  He says fiercely, the anger bleeding out of his features as he settles his head back onto his pillow, looking exhausted and vulnerable. “You have no idea how fucking scared I was. That something was gonna happen to you. God.” And Aomine reaches up and massages his forehead, squeezes his eyes tight shut.

Kagami doesn’t understand. Why would Aomine put his life on the line for a little crush? They’ve known each other for four months, maybe four and a half, tops. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. Aomine doesn’t make sense.

“Why?” Kagami whispers, trying in vain to piece the puzzle together. Aomine removes his hand from his face, opens his eyes again.

“Why do you think? We’ve had this conversation.” Aomine nuzzles a little closer shamelessly, the tips of their noses brushing, and Kagami is still staring into his eyes even as they’re this close, Aomine’s blurring together to become one big Cyclops eye but he refuses to back away.

“No, we haven’t. You said you liked me. But that doesn’t explain why you’d risk your life for me. You don't—” He pauses, his unfinished ' _you don't_ _make sense'_ ringing in the air, his voice sounding confused and slightly strangled to his own ears.

He senses Aomine shift under the blankets, and light fingers begin tracing along his side. Goosebumps crop up immediately all over his body, and a very small part of Kagami realizes he forgot to put on more clothes after his shower but can’t bring himself to care.

Aomine smiles—a real, genuine, warm smile that hits Kagami like a punch right to the gut.

“Because I love you, Taiga.”  

Kagami freezes, fear rising up from his feet to spread through his body, his mind drawing to a fuzzy blank.

“What?” The hand on his side keeps him from worming away in panic, and he finally rears his head back, desperately avoiding eye contact as he thinks of possible escape routes. “What, no, you don’t. Daiki, you don’t. You never said— we’re just—you can’t _actually_ —“

A hand grips Kagami’s head from behind, forces it forward until they’re facing each other again, keeping him in place.

“Why couldn’t I?” and Kagami knows now that he’s made him angry again, the eyes before him are narrowed into catlike slits, the fingers digging into his side. “I know what you think of me, Taiga. I know you think I’m a fickle baby and that as soon as something happens between us I’m just gonna run away with my little Kagami trophy and never bother seeing you again.”

Kagami’s breath catches, fights the welling emotion climbing up his throat. Since when was Aomine so perceptive?  Kagami feels naked, like his insides are getting scoped out and he wants to curl in on himself but their positions won’t allow it. He can’t understand what’s going on, why is it so _easy_ for Aomine to talk like this, why is Aomine all of a sudden acting like the adult?

Aomine’s face softens, loosens his hand on the back of Kagami’s head until he’s just carding it through the strands gently. “I get that you’re weirded out. I know it’s weird. We’re not even dating or anything. But I have no doubt in my mind that I love you.”

He shrugs, lessens the grip of his other hand as well, continues stroking Kagami’s side, swirls his fingers up over Kagami’s bare shoulder and down again, and he fights the shivers threatening to overcome him.  

“I think I have for a while. I didn’t really put a name to it until, what, maybe two weeks ago?" He pauses, thinking. "Yeah. Like probably the day after I confessed I realized it was more than that. But it was kinda too late to say anything, and you were still super pissed at me." He shrugs again. "I know it seems sudden, but it’s not.” Aomine looks up at the slowly turning ceiling fan, humming softly, his hands drawing little figure-eights all over Kagami's skin. He meets Kagami's eyes again, smiles, his own crinkling at the corners. “And I’m not expecting anything from you. I’m happy the way things are now. As long as I getta be around you all the time, that’s good enough for me.”

Kagami can't breathe.

Hadn't he been looking for a reason to put his faith in Aomine? His fear of abandonment won't disappear overnight, and trust won't come easily either. But this man in front of him would quite literally risk his life for Kagami. For now, it would have to be a good enough reason to take that first step.

Aomine  _loves_ him. 

And all of a sudden the balance tips over, the cork is unstopped from Kagami’s heart and he lets himself be flooded with that warmth he had been so scared to feel, the feelings he wouldn’t let himself acknowledge when he's not at the precipice of death. He doesn’t know if it’s love but Aomine is _important._ He’s so important, and Kagami needs to be around him all the time. He needs to play basketball with him, and they need to eat together and watch TV together and spend their lives intertwined in some way.

“I want to,” Kagami finally breathes, watches as Aomine’s eyes widen, as the hands on his body falter in their tender motions.

“Wait,” Aomine says, his voice unsure now that he’s been caught off guard. “What do you mean? You want to what?”

“I want _you_. I want us to be together. And I want—”

" _Really?”_ Aomine interrupts, louder than strictly necessary, and Kagami isn't warned before his face is mushed into the side of Aomine’s neck and he’s crushed in a hug, Aomine’s arms wrapped tight around his ribcage constrictingly, squeezing all the air out of Kagami’s lungs.

“Daiki—!” Kagami gasps, happy but unable to breathe.

He’s pulled back again abruptly, one hand still on his shoulder, the other cupping his neck. “So we can date? We’re together now? All that mushy stuff?" Aomine’s smile is blinding, so huge and all-encompassing it shouldn’t even be able to fit on his face but it does, and Kagami can’t hold back his answering smile, feeling so light and airy a breathless laugh bubbles up from his chest before he can stop it.

“Yeah, I guess we are.” He says, his voice so flooded with giddiness he sounds like a schoolgirl but for all the world he doesn’t care.

“Oh, my god. _Yes.”_ Kagami half-expects Aomine to get up and run a victory lap around the room, but he settles for a quick kiss on Kagami’s cheek, and the sweet innocence of the gesture shocks him into muteness. Aomine stares at him in wonder for a moment longer before slapping a hand to his forehead. “Oh, oops. I just realized I cut you off. Shit, sorry. What were you saying?”

“Hmm?” Kagami answers blearily, too busy feeling his cheek buzzing with nerve endings to comprehend.

“Before. You said that you wanted us to be together and then you were gonna say something else but I got too excited and cut you off. What was it?”

Kagami snaps out of his trance and is immediately filled with nervousness and embarrassment, but his body is still thrumming with the adrenaline from his previous confessions so he’s able to muster up the courage to speak. “Oh. Well. I was just gonna say that I, um. I also wanted to, uh, you know—“ And Kagami doesn’t want to say it out loud, but he looks down at Aomine’s body, hungrily stares from his collarbones down his chest and stomach, finally lets himself indulge in what he’s been repressing this whole time. He makes it so obvious in his expression what he’s getting at, and knows Aomine understands when he looks back up and his jaw is slack, looking incredulous but his eyes have a new kind of fire in them.

“But—“ Kagami continues quickly before Aomine has time to pounce. "Uh.." and then he’s stuck again, struggles to find a way to say it in a way that won’t be offensive. “What you said earlier, I, ah,” He tries, his cheeks little campfires, his whole face burning and he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips.  “It…I guess it’s true. That I’m, uh,”

“Scared?” Aomine offers for him, the thumb on his neck moving in little distracting circles.

“Uh, I guess? I mean, I’m just…worried?”

Aomine’s eyebrows shoot up. “So I was right? You think that if I fuck you I’ll run for the hills?”

Kagami thought that he was used to Aomine’s blunt language, but he still squawks in surprise. “What! No! I mean, not quite that— but, I do have this feeling that…” he hesitates, bites his bottom lip.

“That…?” Aomine encourages, his face relaxed, eyes slightly hooded.

“That you’ll get bored.” Kagami says weakly, flicks his eyes to look at the watercolor painting on the wall beyond Aomine’s head.

“Bored.” Aomine echoes flatly, his eyes narrowing.

“I mean, there’d no challenge anymore. No more mystery or “what if”. You’d know what it’s like and get bored and go off to find someone else.” Kagami finishes miserably, knows he fucked up the “not offensive” part and basically stomped all over Aomine’s feelings. He chances a glance at Aomine’s face, is a little relieved to see that his expression is mostly the same as before, but with just a dash of annoyance.  

“I know you’re not gonna take my word for it, but that’s total shit.” Aomine says slowly, his eyes searching Kagami’s face. “I’d like to think I’m a bit more decent than that.”

“I know that! And that’s why it’s stupid! But that’s just how I’ve always felt since we met, and it’s been the only thing holding me back—”

“It’s been bugging you that much, huh?” Aomine murmurs, now looking at the pattern of little sail boats on the top quilt, looking like he’s thinking very hard. “So, you want to have sex. And the only reason you might not want to is that you’re worried that if we fuck—“

“Ah, well, no, it’s mostly that if _you—“_ and to Kagami’s surprise, at that Aomine lets out a big laugh.

“Just _me,_ huh? That’s the only condition? Well, there’s an easy solution for _that.”_

Kagami’s taken aback by Aomine’s sudden lightheartedness. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“Hmm…how about…”Aomine flutters his eyelashes , moves so he can breathe right against Kagami’s lips, his chin tipped up invitingly, “You fuck _me_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, such DRAMA! This is turning into a soap opera and I'm not even sorry. And I'm so HAPPY because I got to write Riko and she's so fun; those boys would fall to pieces without her. #1 gal right there. 
> 
> So I don't really see how I can put it off any longer, so next chapter definitely expect sexy times. So if that's not your thang maybe skip around until you find a spot that's not butt naked nasty? HAAHAHAHAHA. 
> 
> I finally got a weekend at home and to avoid studying for bio I wrote the majority of this chapter, which is my longest chapter to date, whoop whoop! 8,500 ish words? I know that's not a lot by most people's standards but for me it's a TON, compared to my earlier chapters which were around 3,000. 
> 
> "Northern Downpour" by Panic! At the Disco. This song is honestly so lovely it KILLS ME. 
> 
> Again, shameless advertisement: http://smileyeeyore.tumblr.com ;D come talk dirty to me~


	11. no place i'd rather be

Kagami can’t even pretend that he heard wrong. The words were spoken quietly, but each syllable was said with such delicious, calculated intent that he knows he heard exactly right. His face grows hot, his mouth going dry. He has trouble finding his tongue long enough to choke out, “You want _me_ to…?”

Aomine laughs, air blowing hot against Kagami’s lips, and he can feel the deep reverberations in his bones. “Yeah. I want you to top.”

“But—”  

“But what?” Aomine’s grinning, looking overly pleased with himself. “You said it yourself. You wanna bang, but don’t want me to do the bangin’. It’s an easy fix.”

Kagami flounders, his mouth opening but then only sighing out agitated air. It's not that the idea doesn't sound appealing, because it does—he's curled up in a warm, cozy bed with a beautiful man who was more than willing, and it's getting a little difficult to keep his hands to himself. He also can’t really deny that it’s technically a solution to his specific predicament. If he doesn't want to be fucked by Aomine—not yet, anyways, not until he can that he has one-hundred percent faith that Aomine plans on sticking around—then the obvious answer is that he should be the one to do it. Yet he knows it’s not as simple as that. If anything, the reprieve he would feel from his endless worrying would only be temporary. The act itself wouldn't _prove_ anything. 

Unable to articulate his thoughts into words, Kagami runs a hand through his hair, tugs roughly on the strands. “Having me do it isn’t going to fix the real problem here!”

Aomine smiles at him sadly, reaches up and smooths out the angry lines furrowed into Kagami’s forehead with his fingertips. “Hmm? You mean like how you trust me about as far as you can throw me? No, it won’t. You’re right.” He says, voice mellow and quiet. He reaches up further, removes the hand threatening Kagami’s premature baldness. “That needs to come with time. But this—it’s a start, right? In the very least, it couldn't _hurt._ ”

Kagami hesitates, bites his lip, opens his mouth to rebuttal but he can’t think of any more plausible excuses. This was _his_ idea in the first place. He was the one who brought it up, made the current situation he was in now. And he had meant every word he said. But to say he wasn't scared would be a lie.

Aomine watches him for a moment longer, his eyes searching, before he abruptly releases all the various holds he has on Kagami’s body, sits up and begins scooting to the edge of the bed.

Kagam's first instinct is to panic, thinks of what he could have done wrong. But he calms as he realizes Aomine’s just heading for his bag on the floor next to the wall. He begins digging through it, tossing random clothes and toiletries out as he goes, grumbling to himself under his breath.

“Hm, maybe the side pocket…”

Kagami cranes his neck, props himself up on an elbow to see better. “Uh, what are you—“

“Ah-hah! Yes!” And Aomine turns to face him again, a proud smile on his face, as he flourishes in front of him several blue squares and a bottle of clear gel. Kagami stares back incredulously, his eyebrows once again creeping towards his hairline. He wets his lips, his stomach suddenly twisting with nerves. “So you came prepared.” He looks away, his cheeks uncomfortably warm.

Aomine’s abashed—he smiles guiltily, scratches at the back of his head, his face suddenly glowing pink. “Ah, yeah. I mean, I didn’t think anything was gonna happen, but it never hurts just in case, you know?”

“Right.” Kagami replies flatly, blankly staring at the sheets twisted in his clenched fists. His sudden bout of anxiety is making him curt; he knows it’s not Aomine’s fault but he can’t stop the nervousness from buzzing underneath his skin like a live wasps’ nest.

“Taiga.”

He startles as Aomine less-than-gracefully throws himself back onto the bed, wriggles up until they're once again facing each other, his hoard of supplies in a little pile between them. He settles his head on Kagami’s pillow, their noses almost touching. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I promise I won't be upset," he murmurs softly. 

Panic starts building again in Kagami’s throat. “No!” He says, a little too desperately, surprising himself by how loud his voice comes out.

And he evidently isn't the only one: Aomine's just looking back at him, frozen, his eyes wide. Kagami reigns control of his voice, looks away, embarrassed. “No, I told you, I do. Honest. It’s just…” He can only gesture helplessly with his hands, doesn’t know himself what he’s trying to say. He's telling the truth—at this point, he really, _really_ wants to. Now that the seed has been planted in his head he finds that it's all he can think about. It's just that he's having trouble linking the words in his head to his useless mouth. But then Aomine’s nodding, his eyes never leaving Kagami’s face. “No, I get it. How about this—if you don’t like it, or if it makes you feel weird, we’ll never do it again. No questions asked.”

Kagami barks out a short laugh, but stops abruptly when he sees the completely earnest expression in front of him. He raises an eyebrow skeptically, and Aomine rolls his eyes, sighs theatrically.

“It’s not like it’s a fucking blood pact. You aren’t gonna be stuck in anything. If you wanna get out afterwards, no one’s gonna stop you.” And then he grins mischievously, so cocky it's nearly repulsive. “But I’ve heard from various trustworthy sources that I’m nothing to sneeze at.”

At that Kagami groans, massages at his temples, his lip curled in moderate disgust. “Can we not talk about your extensive history right now. God.”

Aomine cackles, sounding entirely too much like a deranged hyena. “That reminds me! We’ve never talked about yours! Details, details!" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, his smile completely wicked.

“You’re just embarrassing yourself now. It’s making me feel even sicker.” To emphasize, he curls up tighter, closes his eyes and presses his face into the pillow with a low groan.

Aomine hums, and Kagami looks up at the other, his face still mashed into an abundance of fluff.  Aomine's picking at a down feather sticking out of the pillow case, and when he notices Kagami watching him he glances down, his smile less manic. “If it makes you feel better, I’m so nervous I could throw up.”

Kagami snorts. "Why are  _you_ nervous?"

He's biting his lip, not meeting Kagami's eyes now and he shrugs. "I don't know. First-time jitters, I guess? I mean, it's obviously not my first rodeo. But, I mean, it's you. So it's kind of a big deal." 

Kagami doesn't know what to say to that. So he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath through his nose. “You better not puke on me. I’m serious.”

Another laugh. “I’ll try not to, but I ain't making any promises.”

Kagami groans, lets himself sink down into the spongy mattress even further. Regardless of his nervousness, his body is still so relaxed. The heat radiating from Aomine just inches away from him is turning his muscles into pudding. The steady sound of breathing, the occasional rustles of bedsheets; they’re all making him sleepy. He's starting to think about just drifting off and continuing this conversation later when he feels the bed shift, freezes as lips brush lightly against his ear.

“ _Please_ , fuck me.”

His eyes snap open, stomach immediately flipping as he meets glowing cobalt. It’s still Aomine, but there’s a certain blatant feral quality about him now, something about him both innocent and dangerous, the look in his eyes causing Kagami’s blood to run hot.

He’s stunned quiet, can only stare back in disbelief, the breath caught in his chest.  Aomine grins, all feline coyness, shimmies the rest of his body forward until it’s pressed flush against Kagami’s, chest against chest, hips against hips. He tangles their legs together, dips his head to speak into Kagami’s neck, laying light kisses in between words.

“As much as you want. It doesn’t matter to me. I just want you.” He murmurs, his breath tickling Kagami's skin, and just from these feathery touches of Aomine’s lips against him his heart is pounding a mile a minute. He honestly doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle anything more without slipping into cardiac arrest. As if listening to his thoughts, Aomine leans back again, reaches up and begins to comb back Kagami’s damp bangs from his face. “Until you’re convinced I’m serious. Until you’re satisfied. As much as you want.” His voice is low and smooth, his palm hot on Kagami's forehead. 

Kagami’s body is thrumming; he still can’t feel his mouth to form a response. He’s just so stunned by this man in front of him. This siren that’s looking at him with those eyes, who’s once again crooning to him with a voice like silk, “As much as you want.”

And then Aomine’s tipping his chin up, watching him expectantly, and he realizes that Aomine’s waiting for _him_ to make the move. He’s putting the ball in Kagami’s court, still giving him the chance to back out. And in that moment, he also realizes that he has absolutely zero intention of doing so.

Cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal, Kagami tilts his face up, holding his breath, until their lips haltingly brush together. He lets a deep breath out his nose, leans the littlest more in and watches as Aomine’s half-lidded eyes close with a contented sigh. He presses that first light kiss, closes his eyes as butterflies erupt in his stomach, chasing each other in a flutter of warmth. They flow through all his limbs, his fingers and toes vaguely tingling.

He wants this to go slow, to stay in control for as long as possible. He wants to be aware and to savor every moment. He wants to  _remember_ this. And surprisingly, so far Aomine's compliant with Kagami's pace. He doesn't push further like Kagami expects; he's almost hesitant, like he's afraid he'll startle off a small bird. 

He makes sure that Aomine’s going to continue behaving before he leans in again, pecks as his lips once, twice, and the third time he lingers. The feel of Aomine’s mouth, soft and pliant against his own is addicting, and as he lays one downy kiss after another he finds that he stays a little longer each time. He takes deep controlled breaths through his nose, fighting with his body that wants to take control of the reins and sprint on ahead.

He can’t get himself to rear back when Aomine hesitantly opens his mouth, forcing Kagami’s open with it, and leans closer, the kiss becoming more forceful. Their lips move together fluidly, making soft wet noises and Kagami’s heart is picking up the pace to a dangerous level to where he’s sure Aomine can feel it pounding fitfully against his own chest.

The carefully crafted composure he started with is quickly deteriorating into a laughable dream.

Because Aomine wasn’t kidding when he said that he was he was nothing to sneeze at. He’s _really good_ at kissing. In fact, all of his movements, each of his touches, they seem almost rehearsed in their smoothness and ability to make Kagami’s stomach somersault—it’s making him feel clumsy and uncoordinated in comparison. He simply exudes confidence and sensuality, and as their soft kisses grow deeper Aomine makes little noises in the back of his throat and it’s kind of driving Kagami crazy. They’ve kissed before, sure—but the circumstances have never been what you could call ideal. Kagami was never able to fully be in that moment, was never able to truly appreciate how warm Aomine’s mouth is, how it seems so perfectly molded to fit his own.

He finds that he can’t even consider pulling away as it becomes more intense, as the blood racing through him burns like liquid fire, as Aomine swipes along his lower lip with his tongue, gently licking inside his mouth. Aomine’s holding onto Kagami’s upper arm and periodically giving it soft squeezes, making his limbs feel more like useless jelly with each passing second.

Just as he thinks he’s at the breaking point, is ready to wave goodbye to his sanity Aomine releases him and pulls away, just out of reach, opens his dark eyes and smiles lazily.

“That all you got?” He asks quietly, an infuriatingly teasing grin marring his deceivingly innocent expression.

Kagami is indignant, his mouth flapping, searching for a suitable comeback because _how dare he—_ but it only lasts for a second before he smiles to himself wryly. So that's how he wants to play it, huh? Well, lucky for him Kagami's never been one to back down from a challenge. 

He needs no more encouragement before he closes the rest of the distance between them again, this time more purposefully. Immediately Aomine wraps his arms around Kagami’s shoulders, pulling them even closer, humming deep in his throat as their lips meet roughly.  

Kagami doesn’t know when it happens, if that was the kiss that broke through his wary defenses, but somewhere along the way the fear that had been coiled hot in his belly evaporates into a different kind of heat. It pushes him to get closer, as close as he can, to feel Aomine as much as possible. It’s a need that builds and builds, and no matter how close he is, no matter how much of Aomine is pressed against him, it’s not enough.

For the first time since he saw him dancing onstage, he's finally able to fully admit to himself just how _perfect_  Aomine truly is. He's finally free from that accompanying guilt that would crop up whenever he caught himself staring longer than what was appropriate, whenever he found himself with itching hands. He’s never been able to let himself really look, let alone _touch_.  And now he can do both as much as he wants, so he does. He maps his palms down the smooth, muscular slopes of Aomine’s back, traces his fingers up the delicate curve of his spine, counting each notch. He revels in the broadness of his shoulders, runs them back up to rake through short, soft hair.

And now that he’s more or less been given permission to do as he pleases, everything Aomine does screams aggression. His kisses are all teeth and tongue, his hands gripping at Kagami’s shoulders desperately. The kiss is rough and wet and then Aomine moans into his mouth, and his heart is already thudding erratically but upon hearing that it stops for a moment entirely. Just to hear it again he throws all caution to the wind and bites at Aomine’s lower lip, gives a soft tug with his teeth.

Aomine all but snarls before pulling away, his fingers digging crescent moons into Kagami’s shoulders, his lips already turning red and swollen. He appraises Kagami almost skeptically; his eyes squinted, like he doesn’t believe it’s actually him. “You’re not being fair.” He says, his voice a low rumble that's unfairly tempting. 

“I never said I would be,” Kagami replies, out of breath. He’s flying, his heart beating like a drum and adrenaline is pumping through his veins and he doesn’t want to waste time talking. In one smooth motion, he shoves at the broad shoulders, rolls them over until he’s hovering over Aomine's body. Aomine just looks up at him in plain shock, jaw slack.

“Holy _shit.”_

Kagami leans down, nuzzles at his jaw before giving it a little nip, smiling to himself at the sound of a soft gasp. He plants rough kisses and bites up Aomine’s neck, below his ear, and is faintly aware of the hands gripping at his waist, the stealthy fingers brushing against his hot skin, just barely slipping below the waistband of his underwear. He gives a particularly solid suck and Aomine groans again, his hips rising off the bed. “I swear to god, you’re gonna _kill_ me.”

Kagami lets go, examines the pretty red mark on Aomine’s neck, and decides he’s satisfied with his work. He meets Aomine’s desperate eyes, grins down smugly. “Wow. I gotta say, I expected more.” Now it’s his turn to tease, to challenge, and before Aomine can retaliate he drops his weight, putting the two of them flush together, grinds his hips down.

“ _Ah._ ”

Aomine bites his lower lip, poorly repressing a whine and Kagami clenches his jaw. It’s just been in the background until now but now he’s unable to ignore the throbbing between his legs that’s now so prominently there, an equal hardness digging into his pelvis. 

“Please do something about that,” Aomine grits out, staring up pleadingly, his pupils so blown Kagami can only just make out a tiny ring of dark blue at the edges.

“I’m getting there, be patient.” He says tightly, closes his eyes and deliberately grinds his hips down in slow circles, his mouth unconsciously falling open because it feels _so damn good_. Aomine seems to agree because he twists underneath Kagami, a stream of expletives and frustrated whimpers flowing freely. Only when the incessant whining noises become too much does Kagami push himself up until he’s straddling Aomine’s waist, sitting back on his thighs.  He stares down at Aomine’s body, at the pinkness blooming up his chest to his face, at the wet red spots dotting his neck and the black eyes that are watching him with reverence.

Kagami wiggles his fingers underneath the band of Aomine’s black boxers, gives a quick yank, silently asking him to lift his hips up. He does, never breaking eye contact, his breathing picking up as Kagami tugs the material down his legs, briefly lifting himself up off Aomine’s thighs before he can pull them the rest of the way down past his feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, hears the dull muted thump of the fabric hitting the carpet.

He can do nothing but stare, feeling like his eyes might be bulging out of his head a bit more than what would be considered acceptable but fuck, Aomine’s _beautiful_. All taught muscles underneath browned skin, he’s flushed and glowing as Kagami reaches out to trace blue-green veins down his arms, caressing the soft skin of his wrists in silent awe. As his eyes travel downward, savoring every dip and committing them to memory, he can sense the impatience buzzing in the air, senses rather than sees the clenched fists on top of the bedspread, the body trembling with building frustration.

“Patience.” He murmurs, not looking up, gaining a sick kind of satisfaction being able to be in complete control like this. And then he reaches what he’s been looking forward to all this time, and he’s certainly not disappointed.  Aomine’s cock, hard and curving upwards towards his belly, darker in color than the rest of him, looking completely delectable and Kagami wants nothing more than to taste all of him at once but he restraints himself. This is his moment—this is all for him, and he’s going to make the most of it while Aomine is pinned to this bed, at his mercy. He needs to drag this out for as long as possible.

“Put the pillows against the headboard and lean against them.” He says roughly, and he's pleased when Aomine rushes to obey him, propping the pillows up messily and flopping against them before turning back, expectant.

“Spread your legs.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. He’s caught off guard—this obviously isn’t going the way he thought it was going to, but he does none the less, his eyes a little squinted as he assesses every movement. Kagami lies on his stomach, hooks his arms underneath spread legs, arranging them over his shoulders. Aomine still looks like he can’t figure out what he’s up to—his expression is a mixture of crazed anticipation and confusion, but before he can think too much about it, Kagami swoops in, avoiding the tempting cock in front of him completely and giving a firm lick instead to the puckered pink skin below. 

Aomine gasps, his entire body jolting, his thighs tightening briefly around Kagami’s head before he cranes his neck down, stares at the man between his legs incredulously. “Are you serious? You’re seriously gonna eat my ass.”

As he says this, his hands sneak down to thread into Kagami’s hair, preventing any attempts at escape. 

A distracted “mmhmm” is all he gets in reply before Kagami’s dipping his head again, this time planting his lips more firmly and giving a good suck, his tongue teasing the rim and Aomine shudders, his toes curling.

“Jesus fuck,” he moans, fingers pulling Kagami's hair, his eyes pinched shut, lips parted as his breath leaves them heavily.

Kagami adjusts his hands so they’re right under Aomine’s ass, lifting it up for better access to his mouth. He continues like this, licking around and thrusting his tongue shallowly inside, giving Aomine quick breaks to somewhat compose himself by kissing at his inner thighs, closer and closer to his painfully hard cock but never giving him the satisfaction of touching it. Aomine’s a panting mess, writhing, letting out soft screams whenever Kagami seems to have licked at a particularly sensitive spot. It’s only when Kagami thinks he could maybe fit his pinky finger in instead of his tongue that he gives a final parting kiss to Aomine’s entrance and leans upwards, finally grips his cock with strong fingers. Above him, Aomine yelps in surprise, glances down blearily.

Kagami closes his eyes and bows his head, is only able to give one lick before a hand is pressed against his temple, gentle but clearly pushing him back.

“Wait, stop.” Aomine says, his voice shaky, his face pinched like he’s trying desperately to come up with words in an empty brain. “You’re fuckin’ greedy. It’s my turn. Get off.” 

Kagami looks up, eyes wide, at a loss for words as Aomine straightens up a bit more, his limbs clearly shaky as he gets up on his knees and all but shoves Kagami onto his back.

“What—“

“Shh. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Aomine coos, crawls up until he’s hovering over Kagami, his face pink underneath the tan, plainly hungry. He cups Kagami’s neck, strokes it lightly with his fingers as he scans Kagami's body with a terrifyingly voracious expression. He sighs, biting at his lip, before he leans down and covers a nipple with his mouth. He sucks gently and Kagami shudders, his back arching without his permission as a groan escapes him.

“ _Daiki.”_

Aomine smirks, curves his tongue around the pink bud and laps at it, brings his hand up to pinch at the other one, and Kagami clenches his teeth. 

“Oh, you’re being so good.” Aomine hums, trails his hand down to rub at Kagami’s stomach, massaging lightly down past his navel and Kagami doesn’t fail to notice that his hand steadily creeps lower.

Aomine bends again, kisses at Kagami’s chest, his lips trailing down his stomach, giving light bites as he goes. He’s taking too long, spending too much time attending to parts that Kagami doesn’t care about right now. His dick is twitching painfully, still confined to his boxer briefs, and it’s stifling.

“Just…get to already!” Kagami growls, squirms as the other bites his hip bone, laving over the mark with his tongue. Aomine glances up, breath puffing coolly against Kagami’s wet skin. He grins, turns back to his painstaking work. “Weren’t you the one lecturing me about patience?” He murmurs smugly, spitefully kissing skin across the band of Kagami’s boxer briefs, his fingers cruelly teasing the edges.

Kagami whimpers, frustrated beyond belief. He’s reached the point of considering running off to the bathroom and taking care of things himself when Aomine laughs, gives his thigh a comforting pat. “Fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

And finally, _finally,_ Aomine tugs at the waistband, and Kagami gratefully lifts his hips in the air so Aomine can pull them down. As his cock springs free he breathes shakily in relief—but he finds to his dismay that the tension is still unbearable.

He’s distracted from his misery by low whistle. He cracks his eyes to look down at Aomine, who’s leering hungrily at his dick like it’s a piece of meat. He's sizing him up, his lip caught in his teeth as he contemplates. He finally sighs, grins resignedly with a small shrug.

“Well, fuck me.”

Kagami suddenly feels self-conscious, his hands switching at his sides like he wants to cover himself up. He feels extra heat rising to his face, glowers threateningly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Aomine waves him off, reaches out to run his fingertips up and down the length, Kagami hissing at the light, teasing contact that’s only making it hurt _worse._

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

He's about to demand an explanation when Aomine fully wraps his hand around him, and the thoughts fly out of his head so fast he feels lightheaded. He shudders, tensing as the hand starts to make slow, languid strokes up and down, gently working back his foreskin. Aomine watches his work intently, his tongue wetting his lips, his thumb rubbing in circles on the underside of the head.

Kagami bites his lip, wills himself to not make the embarrassing noises he knows are building up in his throat.

Aomine clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “No, that won’t do,” he says quietly, and Kagami is filled with immediate dread as he detects the dangerous tone of voice he’s come to know so well. “Let me hear you, Taiga.”

“Sh-shut up.”

Aomine laughs, and before Kagami has time to check what’s happening he feels the bed jostle and then breath, warm and moist, is puffing against him. Kagami looks down, his stomach twisting, and he’s treated to one last impish grin before a hot, wet mouth is settling over his cock and going all the way down in one smooth motion.

“Oh, my _god_." _  
_

Kagami doesn’t even want to know what Aomine went through to get this good at, well, _everything_. It couldn’t have been anything less than extensive practice—Kagami pushes that rather unappealing thought from his brain, because this was definitely not the time for jealousy. He doesn’t have to berate himself long before he becomes overcome with sensation.

Aomine sucks, swallows around the head of his cock right off the bat and Kagami gasps, tries to focus on anything else, grasping at mental straws so he doesn’t finish before they even have a chance to start. Aomine’s eyes are bright with laughter as he sucks his way back up, like he knows exactly the turmoil Kagami’s feeling at that moment. He swirls his tongue around the head, down the length and back up before sucking on the tip, and Kagami finally gives in, lets out an uncontrolled moan and his cheeks heat up but now that he’s started he finds that he just can’t shut up.

Aomine begins a slow show of up and down, up and down, able to swallow nearly the whole length each time, the head hitting the back of his throat and Kagami is frankly not surprised he seems to be conveniently lacking a gag reflex.  

Kagami’s writhing, trying desperately to gain control of his fitful breathing and the roiling pressure in his belly when Aomine pops his mouth off, his lips shiny with saliva, a perfect cherry red. “How is it?” he asks, voice rough. He continues to pump slowly with his hand, so smooth with the added wetness and Kagami whimpers, the feeling almost overwhelming and he clenches his eyes tight shut.

“S’good. Good.” He slurs, knows he’s nodding incomprehensibly but he’s not in control of his movements right now.

“Wonderful,” Aomine croons, strokes his hand upwards, twists his wrist over the head of Kagami’s cock before firmly passing a thumb over the slit and Kagami’s whole body tenses, a feral sound ripping from his throat.

Aomine hums, and Kagami glances down in time to watch as the hand returns to its normal pace, as he bends his head again, laying kisses along the slick length. “I have a question for you, Taiga.” He says, his sharp eyes cutting upwards, his lips curving up at the corners in a way Kagami knows spells trouble but he’s not in the right state of mind to figure out what Aomine’s up to.

“Wha’s it?” he mumbles, flops his head back on the pile of pillows, tries to think of naked grandmas and world hunger or _anything_ to distract him. He pretends like his stomach muscles aren’t tensing, like he’s not two good strokes away from being _that guy._

But Aomine is merciless.

“Did you want to cum in my mouth or my ass?”

"Ah,  _shit."_

Kagami fists his hands to gather every ounce of willpower within himself not to come just from that question, and he has no doubt that Aomine had every intention of causing his inner crisis because he laughs delightedly. Kagami glowers down at him, and Aomine nuzzles the cock head against his cheek, stares back innocently.

“What do you say? I’m happy with either.”

“Bastard.”

Aomine laughs again, turns to bury his face in the quilt, his whole body shaking. When he comes up for air, his face is redder than before, tears glistening in his eyes.  “I’m serious. Pick,” he manages to choke out, still overcome with sadistic laughter.

“How is that even a question? God.” Kagami groans, wipes a hand over his face before sitting up, Aomine smiling eagerly as they switch spots, scooting backwards to lean against the pillows on the headboard without being told.

Kagami has to feel around the quilt for a minute before he locates the bottle that got buried in all their tumbling around. He pops the cap, squirts a nice dollop on his fingers before snapping the lid and tossing it to the side. He warms the gel by rubbing together his fingers, and he crawls over until he’s once again between spread legs. Aomine stares up at him readily, his hands pulling his knees towards his chest, his entrance still slightly stretched from Kagami’s tongue.

Kagami rubs at the pink skin with his thumb, watches as it twitches and he glances up at Aomine who’s biting his lip, his eyes squinted as he struggles to keep still. He meets Kagami’s eyes, lets his bottom lip fall from his teeth in an eager smile

“Kiss me,” he breathes, reaches his arms out invitingly. Kagami leans over, his thumb still roving in circles, braces himself by Aomine’s side as he leans in to comply with the request. Their lips meet and Aomine sighs blissfully, like a man who’s just found water after wandering in the desert for a week. Kagami can’t help but blush—to think that _he’s_ the one causing someone to react like this, to think that Aomine’s been looking at _him_ this way without an ounce of shame. He also notices that Aomine’s gentler this time, not quite as ravenous—his kissing is held back to soft movements, his teeth only used to graze lightly against skin. He cups Kagami’s face with his hands, combs his still-damp hair back behind his ears.

“Ready?” Kagami asks quietly, and Aomine nods impatiently before snatching his lips again.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, replaces his thumb with his forefinger and pushes in gently, pausing when Aomine lets out a soft whine. He tries to lean back to speak but the other stubbornly chases after his lips, his brows knitted together, frustration evident.

“Are you ok?” Kagami turns his head away, only giving his cheek and Aomine growls, forcefully turns Kagami’s face back to his before attacking it again.

“’m fine. ‘s been awhile.” He mutters between kisses, his hands sliding down to play with the hair at nape of Kagami’s neck. Kagami hesitates but nods, continues gently pushing his finger inside, and this time Aomine doesn’t react, just continuously finds new spots on Kagami’s face he hasn’t yet touched with his lips.

The first two fingers go off without a hitch. He goes achingly slow the whole time, always tense, ready to stop at any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t need to—Aomine keeps relatively quiet, his face almost carefully blank— but after a few minutes of leisurely fingering he begins to make sudden high-pitched noises into Kagami’s mouth, moves his hips in time.

Remembering what makes himself feel good, Kagami starts poking around inside Aomine, rubbing at spots on his walls, massaging gently, trying to remember what he does to find his own, what he’s done in the past, what well-meaning friends and awkward web searches have told him.

At this point Aomine’s flat out squirming, the open-mouthed kisses he’s laying all over Kagami’s face are distracted, his eyes unfocused. “Don’t—“ he pauses to swallow, his breaths coming quick. “Don’t worry if you can’t find it. Sometimes even I have troub—“ and then Kagami’s finger brushes against a little bump and all at once Aomine’s back stiffens, his head thrown back as he lets out a strangled noise and Kagami would give anything in that moment for a rewind button, to replay over and over the most glorious expression he’s ever seen.

Aomine’s body relaxes; he finally lets go of Kagami’s face to fall back on the pillows, panting hard. “ _Fuck.”_ He gasps, his voice completely wrecked, raspy and hoarse.

“I need you to make that face again,” Kagami murmurs, immediately curls his fingers and probes for that spot once more. Aomine laughs, the sound rough, and he smiles lethargically. “You’re actually a huge pervert, aren’t you? How come you never told me?” He grins, breathless, then freezes and swears as Kagami brushes his prostate again.

“You never asked,” Kagami mumbles, plainly dazzled as he watches Aomine's face contort, listens to the loveliest of sounds. Aomine opens his eyes again, his whole body trembling, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen jumping. He's abruptly sullen, glaring up at Kagami sourly. “So are you gonna fuck me or not? I’m getting old here,” he growls, rocks his body back and forth with Kagami’s hand, his jaw clenched.

“One more,” Kagami soothes, and as he says this he adds the third finger, reveling in the tightness, imagines the feeling that’s clenched around his fingers encircling his cock and he groans, bites his lip and endures.

Aomine quickly becomes impatient. He bites vindictively at Kagami’s collarbones, almost hard enough to hurt, pushes back on the fingers in his body incessantly. Kagami knows he’s probably overdoing it—he certainly used too much lube, the excess of which is squelching and spilling out over his fingers, running down Aomine’s ass cheeks into the bedspread. But he’s topped only very few times in the past—he knows that if it’s not done right, Aomine won’t enjoy himself, and he knows that’s exactly what he wants to avoid.

“Ok, enough, I’m ready, I’m ready,” Aomine says irritably, the aggressive effect diminished significantly with his cracking voice. He’s reaching down like he’s about to forcibly remove the fingers from his body, but Kagami snatches his wrist, pins it back to the bed.

“Are you sure?” He furrows his brows, watching for any signs he’s moving too fast. He’s met with another stubborn glare, so he gently removes his fingers, Aomine hissing at the sudden emptiness. Kagami absentmindedly wipes the extra slickness off on the blankets below.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Hurry up before I get gray hairs.” Aomine huffs irately with a roll of his eyes.

"Ok, ok." Kagami reaches for the lube and condoms, picks one blue packet and throws the rest off the bed. He gingerly rolls the rubber on his cock, still so sensitive from before, and he has the distinct impression that he’s not going to last long. He smears another glob of lube over himself for the heck of it, lines up with Aomine’s entrance and props himself up on his elbows before he glances up for confirmation. He has to quickly look away, fighting yet another blush as Aomine watches him, his expression so painfully sweet and worshipful Kagami can’t help but be as embarrassed as he is pleased.

He takes another deep breath, braces himself, and slowly, slowly, guides himself inside.

Immediately, he hears a sharp hitching of breath.

Before he can even react, Aomine grips at his biceps, squeezes threateningly. “I swear to god, if you fucking stop...” He growls, his face twisted uncomfortably. Kagami pauses anyway, ignores the way blunt nails dig into his skin. “But if I’m _hurting_ you—“

He’s waved off. “You’re fucking huge. There’s nothing we can do about that. Now _move.”_

“But—“

“ _Please_ , Taiga.” Aomine's staring imploringly up at him, and Kagami can only look back, dumbfounded. He shakes his head, narrows his eyes. “Fine. But I’m gonna go really slow. And I don't want to hear you complain if you’re sore tomorrow.”

Aomine chuckles, his body tensing as Kagami starts pushing in again. “Oh, I’m for sure gonna be sore tomorrow. My man’s hung.”

Kagami grimaces, more embarrassed than anything, glowers down at Aomine before giving him a quick pinch.

“Ow!”

“Shut up.”

“But you are! How did you manage to hide that thing from me for so long? You could have at least _hinted_.”

Talking seems to be a good distraction for the pain as Kagami slowly pushes in; Aomine’s face is still twisting into expressions of discomfort, but they seem to be more unconscious than anything as he focuses unwaveringly on their conversation.

Kagami decides to humor him—he rolls his eyes, his mouth curling up in a half-smile. “Yeah, cause I like to go around telling people that I have a massive dick,” he says, voice dripping sarcasm.

Aomine’s eyebrow twitches, sucks in a trembling breath before laughing. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it. That’s what I always say.” He then smiles guiltily, breaks eye contact and focuses on a point beyond Kagami’s head.

“Oh no,” Kagami frowns, “don’t tell me you’ve done that before. _Please_ tell me you don't do that.”

“Well…I guess booze doesn't mix well with me?” Aomine laughs shakily, and then he cringes. Kagami slows down even more, pushing in at a glacial pace as he rubs soothing circles into Aomine’s hip. He knows there’s nothing else he can do at this point to make him more comfortable, but guilt still swims in his stomach, and he thinks desperately of a way to make things easier.

_Maybe if I…_

He scoffs, closes his eyes in mock horror. “Oh, my god. My boyfriend’s an idiot.” He peeks down, and his heart immediately clenches, feels like it grows an extra three sizes; that answering smile is so bright and joyful it hurts to look at. Aomine clasps onto the hand massaging at his hip, his lips silently echoing that one word as he watches their fingers intertwine with wonder. “But you already knew that.” He says slowly, glancing up.

Kagami smiles back gently, reaches up and wipes away sweat trickling down from Aomine’s hairline, his hand lingering on the hot, smooth skin.  “Yeah. I did.”

And then Kagami's just content to just brush the back of his hand up and down his warm cheek before he blinks in surprise, glances down to notice that his pelvis is now pressed flush against Aomine’s ass. “Oh. I'm done.” He says, giving a soft squeeze to the hand enclosed in his own. Aomine squeezes back twice as hard. “Move!” He says eagerly, grinds his hips down for emphasis.

Kagami shakes his head, scowling. “Jesus, give it a minute! I get that you’re all about masochism but I don’t wanna hurt you!” He sits back a bit, holds onto the other’s hips to prevent them from moving before he’s gotten used to the intrusion. Aomine grumps, his bottom lip sticking out, and Kagami carefully watches his face, as the lines on his forehead slowly smooth out, his pinched eyes widening as the stretch becomes less painful.

He loosens his firm grip, leans forward to look directly into Aomine's eyes. “You good now?”

He’s met with two surly balls of fire.

“I already said I was!”

_It’s like talking to a child._

“Whatever.”

Kagami pulls out a bit experimentally before pushing back in. Aomine’s so tight around him he can barely move, and it feels _so fucking good_ he sees stars. He whimpers, gripping the blanket below his hands.

“ _Shit_.”

He’s gasping, frantically trying to keep himself in check, to keep himself from immediately losing control. He needs to go slow. He needs Aomine to feel good too.

Below him, Aomine’s biting his lip—he doesn’t look like he’s in pain, but Kagami can tell he’s not having the time of his life either. He sets an unhurried pace, his in-and-out movements measured, watching closely for signs that he needs to stop. It takes a few minutes, but slowly Aomine’s body eases up and welcomes him in, his pinched expression smoothing into one of pleased neutrality.

“Oh, that’s nice.” He murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed, face relaxed and almost serene.

But Kagami doesn’t want just _nice. Nice_ isn’t _nearly_ good enough. He adjusts his angle, decides Aomine’s relaxed enough and pushes in this time harder, their bodies making a resounding smack and Aomine chokes, his eyes snapping open, completely wild.

“Do that again,” he whispers, loops his arms around Kagami’s neck and pulls him down, starts mouthing at the juncture between his neck and shoulder as Kagami thrusts into him, harder and faster. Aomine wraps his legs around Kagami’s waist, bringing them impossibly closer still. His nails are scratching in between Kagami’s shoulder blades, the delicious noises he’s making steadily becoming louder and more uncontrolled.

“Faster.” He whimpers into Kagami’s ear, bordering on frantic, clutching at him desperately.

Kagami does as he’s told.

He picks up the pace until he’s just _pounding_ into Aomine, the headboard slamming into the wall and it’s just not _enough._ He needs to be closer, to have more of Aomine wrapped around him; he doesn’t want an inch of his skin left without a burning pathway from the other’s touch. He can feel Aomine’s heels digging into the small of his back in a vice-grip, and he’s shouting in Kagami’s ear and his nails are undoubtedly cutting his back into ribbons but everything feels good to him right now, they all just add to this pleasure and it’s still not enough.

In the middle of a loud yell Aomine grabs his face, yanks it towards him and sets big messy kisses against his mouth, his breath fanning against Kagami’s face erratically, his face slick with sweat and completely flushed.

“Oh, my god. _Yes. Yes.”_ He’s nearly sobbing, his body jostled with the punishing rhythm, until he gasps, his whole body arching off the bed, completely rigid.  “ _Right there.”_

It’s a great angle for both of them. Lights are exploding behind Kagami’s eyelids and a hot ball is curling in his stomach, a pressure that needs desperate relief.  He lets out a loud groan, grits his teeth. “Dai—I’m close. _I’m close.”_

“Me too. Come for me, baby.” Aomine’s panting, his arms locked tight around Kagami’s neck, his body shaking like an autumn leaf.

“You’re first,” Kagami grunts, out of breath, and he reaches between them, fists Aomine’s dripping cock and strokes it in time with his thrusts.

" _Fucking shit!_ _"_

And then Aomine's body is shuddering uncontrollably, his open mouth breathing erratically into Kagami’s neck, and with one more thrust he cries out an unidentifiable profanity, his cum shooting out onto his stomach. They’re pressed so close together Kagami can feel the warmth smearing onto his abdomen as he continues to move.

As Aomine cums, he tightens impossibly more around Kagami, and then that’s that. He’s done for.

His vision goes black, he can hear himself groaning, but as if from a distance. Bright pops of white light explode behind his eyes, an enormous relief tingling all throughout his limbs, webbing out from his belly. He notices that Aomine’s chanting something, just under his breath in between moans, and Kagami tries to focus on it, but his mind is too far gone and the words are too quiet to catch.

And then it’s retreating, his muscles relaxing all at once, the overwhelming relief glowing warmly throughout his body.

Kagami floats, he doesn’t know for how long— his mind is reduced to fuzzy black static. As his heart rate steadily decreases and the sweat on his skin starts to get chilly in the open air, he opens his eyes, notices dazedly that he’s laying flat on Aomine’s chest, his sweaty forehead stuck to an equally slippery shoulder, the cum between them growing tacky.

He drowsily lifts himself back up, wincing in disgust as he realizes he’s coated in a layer of messy fluids. He looks up at Aomine—his eyes are barely open and glazed, totally fucked-out, looking like he’s already half-asleep. Kagami pulls out gently, the other just letting out a sleepy grunt, and as he stands to throw away the condom in the little trash can by the door Aomine readjusts his positon on the bed, sighing sleepily. He tugs the propped-up pillows down to head-level before throwing himself back down, kicking his legs under the tangle of blankets as he curls up tightly on his side.

He mumbles something under his breath, unrecognizable, and Kagami thinks it sounds familiar to what he had been saying earlier. He walks back to the bed, shakes Aomine’s shoulder, struggling to stay awake himself.

“You can’t go to sleep like that.” He murmurs, then straightens up as Aomine replies with garbled gibberish. He pads unsteadily out of the room, wets a washcloth in the bathroom before returning.  He pries Aomine out of his hedgehog position, wipes off his stomach before cleaning himself as well. He straightens out the mesh of blankets, turns off the lamp on the side table before crawling into bed, his eyelids heavy weights.

Immediately, Aomine worms towards him, like a moth to a flame, flings an arm over his middle and snuggles close. “Love…you.” He mumbles, finally understandable, his face mushed flat into the pillow. Within seconds, his breaths even out into sleep.

_Oh._

Kagami softly combs his fingers though midnight blue hair, sets his head down on their pillow, scoots closer until he can feel Aomine’s heart beating steadily against him. Making sure he’s utterly unconscious, Kagami takes Aomine’s hand, intertwines their fingers and just stares at them, the milky skin coupled with the caramel. He thinks they look good like that.

He falls asleep with Aomine’s knuckles pressed to his lips.

 

\--

 

Aomine’s not a morning person. When he gets up most mornings, he’s grumpy, and disoriented, and all he wants to do is piss and throw himself back into bed. This morning is no different, except everything’s _worse_. First of all, he’s hot—he’s sweating everywhere, his skin sticking to the sheets and heat seems to be attacking him from every direction and no matter how much he searches with his feet he can’t find a cool spot.

Second, something is digging into his ribs, and he can barely breathe thanks to a mysterious strangulating hold around his neck, and his face is being mushed into what seems to be the source of all the heat.

And thirdly, he’s fucking _sore_. He doesn’t know how he managed it but he must have pulled a muscle in his ass or something, but wait, can you even do that? He doesn’t know nor care, but as he wiggles around in vain to get that thing away from his ribs he winces in pain, because his ass _hurts_. And now that he thinks about it, his whole body is sore—his arms and legs are all overly tender. How many private dances did he give last night? Whatever it was, it must have been record-breaking.

Aomine cracks open his eyes, shies away immediately as a sunbeam cuts through his sensitive pupils. As he recoils, he realizes that the reason he can’t move at all is because he’s currently being held in an impressive chokehold by a giant, ridiculously good-looking, and blessedly naked man.

Immediately, the previous night’s memories come flooding back to Aomine and at once his insides are flooded with such warmth and affection he’s overwhelmed. _Taiga_. He’s clinging to Aomine like a koala, his arms wrapped around Aomine’s head, pressing Aomine’s face into his collarbone. His leg is hitched up so high around Aomine’s waist his knee is effectively stabbing into ribs but Aomine doesn’t care, he nuzzles even closer, buries his face in Kagami’s neck and inhales, curls his toes because he always smells _so good_ , like evergreens and warm sugar.

Kagami is so beautiful it leaves Aomine breathless. His lips are parted slightly, his breaths deep and even, his eyelids twitching as he dreams, and Aomine takes this moment to just look at him. At that ridiculous mop of hair, at the sprinkling of freckles across his shoulders, at the cutest fucking bellybutton Aomine’s ever seen. This is the man he loves.

He could have lost this yesterday.

Just thinking about it makes his stomach go cold, and he has to close his eyes and hold onto Kagami tighter to assure himself he’s not going anywhere. It had been awful. Just fucking awful, knowing he wouldn’t be fast enough to grab onto his outstretched hand. That split moment of helplessness and dread as he watched Kagami go off the edge, at the resounding splash and resulting field of white bubbles on top of the water.

After that he didn’t remember making the conscious decision of following him. If he hadn’t, he doesn’t like to think about what might have happened.

He pushes his dark thoughts away, tries to keep himself focused on this moment, because who knows when this’ll happen again, if ever? Kagami might have changed his mind after last night—he may have decided that Aomine isn’t worth the effort after all. If that was the case, Aomine decides he’s not going to waste time brooding when he could instead be happily cuddled up to this great hunk of eye-candy sleeping next to him.

He lets himself drift for a while, never truly falling asleep as he counts Kagami’s breaths, relishing in the heat and feel of soft skin against his own. Every now and then Kagami will mumble a word in his sleep, or kick around for a second before going still again, and Aomine will open his eyes to watch for signs of waking before he continues his languid dozing.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed before Kagami begins to stir. He lets out a big sigh, tightens his hold around Aomine’s neck before relaxing again. His eyes open a crack, unseeing, and he untangles an arm to rub at them, a quiet whine in his throat. He licks his lips, opening his eyes more fully, glances around the room for a moment. He looks confused before he zeros in on Aomine, who’s watching him quietly.

There’s a flash of panic that flits across Kagami’s face before realization dawns and it goes back to sleepy neutrality. He yawns hugely, eyes watering at the corners. “Mmm. Mornin’.”

Aomine wrinkles his nose, yet doesn’t back away an inch. “Ugh. Go brush your fucking teeth.”

Kagami ponders this for a moment, before he shakes his head and ducks, cuddles up against Aomine even further until they’re an unidentifiable mass of arms and legs. “Nah. Don’t feel like it.”

Aomine heaves a great pretend sigh, hugs Kagami to himself tightly, starts carding a hand through his tangle of hair. “So you’re going to make me suffer because you’re lazy? The things I put up with…”

Kagami snorts. “I really don’t want to hear that from you.” He then retracts his limbs, flops back onto his pillow, puffs out a big breath as he contemplates the ceiling. “Mmm… are you hungry? I can make pancakes.”

Aomine sits up, fills Kagami’s field of view. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” he sings, fans his eyelashes coyly.

Kagami rolls his eyes, sits up and stretches his arms over his head, his back cracking loudly. “Maybe once or twice. Fucking nerd.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing with an ill-concealed groan. Aomine has to hold in a laugh—Kagami’s back is completely streaked in red scratch marks, the angry lines in all directions, making him look like a giant tic-tac-toe board. Kagami pops his joints as he walks over to his bag, stoops and starts to rifle through it.  Aomine doesn’t even bother to pretend like he’s not checking out the view.

Kagami straightens up holding a pile of clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, sets them on the dresser before going back to digging around in his bag.

At this point Aomine’s brain is already hard at work trying to come up with a good excuse to keep Kagami naked for as long as possible. He can’t think of one, so he decides to just go for it and see what results he can fish up.

“Wait, Taiga.” Kagami looks over his shoulder curiously, a new pair of boxer briefs in his hands. “Don’t get dressed today. Do it for me.”

Kagami sneers, pointedly turns his back on Aomine and puts his underwear on with exaggerated movements. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Ok, fine. How about a compromise? You can wear those and a shirt. _But_ the shirt has to be mine.”

Kagami turns to look back again, his mouth turned down in an unconvinced frown. “That’s stupid.”

 _Time for the puppy dog eyes._ “Please, baby?”

Aomine struggles not to smile in triumph as he watches Kagami’s will break into a million pieces before his very eyes. Kagami scowls sullenly, the apples of his cheeks dusted a light pink as he puts his hands on his hips. “Do I at least get to pick which shirt I wear?”

Aomine considers this, imagines Kagami in each of his shirts, quickly comes to the conclusion that he would look unfairly good in all of them.

“Yes.”

“Ugh, fine. But you owe me.”

A flirty grin. “I’ll do something nice for you tonight.” And Aomine winks, which causes Kagami’s blush to darken to a nice scarlet as he turns to hide his face.“Whatever.” He mumbles, walks to Aomine’s bag by the wall instead of his own. He rifles through the options, disgust growing on his face with each second.

“Daiki, you can’t just ball up all your clothes and chuck them in a bag! You have to fold them! Now everything’s all wrinkled.”

“But that takes so much time.” Aomine groans, flops back on the bed. 

Kagami takes out a blue button-up shirt, one of the less-wrinkly choices. He angrily shoves his arms through the sleeves, leaves the middle open and Aomine discreetly rolls onto his stomach to hide his sudden hard-on. 

He walks across the room again, neatly puts his shirt and jeans back in their spot, pulls out his toiletry bag and waves it around as he speaks. “I’m going to teach you to behave like a human being one of these days. You act like a fucking animal.”

It’s out before Aomine can censor himself.

“I can fuck like an animal, too.”

Kagami gasps, starts blabbering incoherent, embarrassed nonsense, and Aomine grins. He’s never been this happy in his entire life.

 

\--

 

They spend the rest of the day loafing around. Kagami becomes cold wearing virtually nothing, so Aomine pities him and allows him to better bundle up. Kagami says Aomine’s button up is actually really comfortable so he keeps it on, layering sweaters on top of it. They swath each other in warm fleece blankets, awkwardly tucked on the couch watching sucky made-for-TV movies but together none the less.

They don’t make any moves to head out on the beach again—Aomine doesn’t want to bring it up, afraid that Kagami wouldn’t appreciate that experience being brought up so soon. And frankly, he’d be perfectly content at this point to not step foot in that giant watery death trap for the next ten years. So he pretends like the ocean isn’t just outside their window, claims the sunlight streaming in is too bright, giving him an excuse to close the blinds. He goes around the room, flips on all the lamps and the electrical fireplace, turning the room in a cozy den.

As always, the pancakes Kagami makes for breakfast are fluffy circles of heaven, and throughout the day they munch on the food they brought with them, mostly deeply seasoned corn snacks and other bags of deep-fried goodness.  For dinner Aomine tries his own hand at cooking, a hot pot that Kagami insists is the easiest thing possible but somehow still turns out too salty with a weird aftertaste. Kagami tells him that it’s actually pretty good for a first try, but Aomine pouts all through dinner, picking at shitty tofu and overcooked vegetables.

It’s later in the evening when they decide to play a card game, a game Aomine learned from his strip club buddies that he can’t bother to remember the name of. He explains the rules and Kagami catches on quick. Before Aomine can even voice his surprise Kagami is already efficiently wiping the floor with him.

Aomine throws his cards down on the table, angrier that he’s getting so pissed over this stupid fucking game than actually losing. “Dude, what the fuck. I’m supposed to be good at this!” He pulls at his hair, smacks his forehead on the table top in despair.

“Someone’s a sore loser.” His opponent grins arrogantly, sets his cards down on the table with an over-the-top flourish. 

Aomine rests his head on his arms, glowers up at that stupid smug face. “How are you so good at this? You’re cheating. You have to be.”

Kagami props his chin on his hand, smiles down at him, eyes bright. “It’s all about strategy. Which is unfortunate for you since it requires a brain.”

Aomine’s mouth pops open indignantly at Kagami’s unadulterated sass, and upon seeing his expression Kagami starts to laugh, loud and booming. “God, _your face,”_ he cackles. He laughs wildly, slapping his hands on the table and Aomine can’t stay mad when that sound is like fucking music to his ears. He watches with a small smile, completely enamored, as Kagami calms down to a mild case of the giggles.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’ll show you. Evening the playing field will be more fun anyways.” Kagami leans over the table with his hand of cards, turning them to face Aomine. “Here, see, what I first do when I draw mine is that I—“

He’s suddenly interrupted by a shrill thrilling, and they both start. Kagami looks around for a second, confused, before comprehension dawns and he straightens up, begins to dig in his back pocket.

“Oh, that’s my phone. Probably Kise having trouble working the microwave.” He laughs, swipes across the screen to answer without checking the name.

Aomine’s about to correct him—the two of them are currently having the time of their lives at the most magical place on earth, but Kagami’s already answered.

“Yo.” He says, wobbly, laughter still in his voice. His grin is immediately wiped away when he hears who’s on the other end. He freezes, his eyes growing impossibly huge, shock evident on his face. He gapes silently for a moment, nothing coming out but air, and Aomine’s stomach plummets, because what else could it be but bad news?

Aomine’s about to snatch the phone and answer himself when Kagami comes back to life, clears his throat before replying quietly, his voice holding a sad quality that makes Aomine’s heart ache.

 “…Tatsuya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK FIRST OF ALL: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK 3 1/2 MILLION YEARS TO PUT UP. I just struggled so much with it and i got addicted to fullmetal alchemist and finals and blah blah blah long story short thank you for being so patient! honestly everything about this chapter pisses me off but it was either gonna be finished now or i was never gonna finish it, so here it is! NOW I CAN MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE THANK GOD.
> 
> SECOND OF ALL: I'M SO SORRY THIS IS A LOT OF SEX. LIKE A LOT A LOT. definitely way more than anyone would ever want to read and it's worse because i had no idea what i was doing the whole time hahaha oh well. and ONCE AGAIn this is the longest chapter of all time at 9,700ish words like seriously someone needs to stop me.
> 
> this installment's song is "Rather Be" by Clean Bandit. it's really popular right now and I SEE WHY because IT'S AWESOMe and i listen to it as i walk to my classes and it's always really obvious that i'm walking to the beat. super groovy go listen to it if you haven't heard it yet.
> 
> as always, come talk to me on tumblr! smileyeeyore.tumblr.com


	12. my bones may break; but i'll never be untrue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of Himuro Tatsuya, along with his not-so-surprising companion.

Tatsuya. He’s coming back.

Three years. Three whole years of nothing. No Christmas cards, no letters, no texts or Skype calls or Morse code.

They’ve never needed communication to stay close. That’s just how they’ve always been. Days, weeks, months pass without a word shared between them, and the next time they meet they pick up exactly where they left off, Kagami picking mock fights and Tatsuya brushing him off with a laugh, his mellow voice reminiscent of vanilla and as comforting as a security blanket.

The chain holding the ring on his neck was a constant reminder of this. Just a simple touch was enough to remind him; when he was changing his clothes and it was lifted with his shirt before bumping coolly to rest on his chest again, when he lay on his stomach and the familiar circular shape dug into his skin.  When he was stressed he tended to finger it restlessly, thumb roving over the smooth surface, fingertips finding comfort in the innumerable dips and edges of the chain itself, stroking it up and down, up and down. His mind would play images of his much smaller feet pounding against baking hot concrete, of long blonde hair sticking to shoulders under the scorching sun, the satisfying _swoosh_ of a beat-up net, a sweaty arm slung across his shoulders and a beaming smile filling up his entire world.

As long as he had that chain, as long as he had that tangible reminder, Tatsuya was never as far away as he seemed. One touch and he could practically _feel_ the warmth of a hand pressed between his shoulder blades in greeting, hear that one word, “ _brother”,_ spoken in a voice so overtly fond it couldn’t be anything but love.

In every sense of the word, his _brother_ was coming home. _Tatsuya_ was coming home.

But three years. People change a lot in three years. Kagami sure has. Hell, he’s changed a lot in the span of a few months. In the span of a few _days_. He wonders if Tatsuya will be able to tell. If there’s a new sparkle in his eyes, if he seems to be smiling more, if he’s picked up different speech patterns. He wonders if Tatsuya’s changed as well.

But that voice on the phone had been exactly the same. The same musical lilt, the laugh that was so naturally able to make anyone who heard it feel at home. 

“ _Taiga, it’s been a while. How’ve you been?_ ” he had said, Kagami just barely making out a soft crackling noise in the background followed by a sharp hush from Tatsuya. “ _Atsushi, I’m on the phone. Wait until I’m done_.” It was distant and muted, like he had poorly covered the receiver with his hand.

“…Tatsuya? Um. I. Uh.” And Kagami had distractedly stood up from the table, leaving a bewildered and mildly frightened Aomine alone with a pile of playing cards to open the door onto their little balcony and step outside. It was freezing, a sharp wind blowing drops of even colder rain into his face, and it was dark enough that he could only just make out the white crests of waves.

“Tatsuya. What…I mean. I’m fine. I’m…I’m good. H-How are you?” He had been tripping over his tongue, his brain struggling to keep up. One minute he’s creaming his boyfriend at cards and the next he’s standing on a rain-slicked balcony on the phone with his childhood friend who he hasn’t seen hide nor hair from in _three years._

“ _I’ve been well. Are you still living in Kanagawa_?”

“Uh, yeah. In Sagamihara.”

“ _Are you home_?”

Kagami had hesitated, feeling like it was some sort of a trick question. “What?”

“ _Are you home right now_?”

“I—what? No, I’m not.”

“ _I see. Will you be back soon?_ ”

“Tatsuya. What’s going on?”

He heard a soft hum over the phone, the sound spiking a wave of nostalgia. It made him feel warm inside—coddled and safe, like he was a child again.

“ _Well, I’ve been visiting my parents in Tokyo, since my university gives off quite a bit of time for winter break. I thought it would be nice to catch up._ ”

Kagami had felt his heart jump in his chest, the breath caught in his throat before he cleared it, voice raspy. “Wait. You’re _here?_ In _Japan?”_

“ _Mmm, yes. But we’re still at my parent's house. Don’t worry, I won’t break down your door while you’re not at home._ ”  That melodic laugh.

Kagami had leaned against the wall under the awning, closed his eyes and felt the fine mist collect on his face. “You’re in Tokyo? That’s…that’s really close. Uh, well, I’m not gonna be home for a few days. I’m at the coast.”

“ _Right. Don’t worry, that’s not a problem. I still have some business here, so we’ll head over whenever you give the word. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Taiga,_ ” he breathed the last part, unmistakable affection and sincerity in his tone, and Kagami struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too. 'Night, Tatsuya.”

“ _Good night, Taiga.”_

And then Kagami had heard a soft  _click,_ and then there was silence.

 

\--

 

Presently, Kagami’s lying in bed, a clearly petulant Aomine curled up on the other side. Both of them are freshly bathed—Kagami’s skin is soft, his muscles relaxed from the hot water, eyes a little droopy.

He looks at the large gap in between them, wriggles until his chest is pressed against Aomine’s back. He leans his face forward until his nose is brushing Aomine’s neck, takes a deep inhaling breath, and he notes that even underneath the smell of soap there’s a kind of sweetness. It’s a floral but mild smell wafting from Aomine’s skin that Kagami hadn’t noticed until they were this close, until the normal cologne he wears had been washed off. He can’t put an exact name to it; he’s never been good with flowers. But then again, he doesn’t think it smells like any flower in particular. Because it’s completely natural and completely Aomine—it seems to seep through his pores, gathering densely in his hair. Kagami shamelessly presses his nose into dark blue, inhales the heady scent, and decides the closest he can identify it to is chamomile.

“Why are you smelling me.” Aomine grumbles tonelessly, not moving away but not turning to speak to Kagami directly either.  His body is tense—his arms are kept strictly to his sides, back muscles bunched, shoulders pushed forward defensively.

Kagami wraps an arm around him from behind, leans forward again and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you’re pouting.” He murmurs, smiling as Aomine unwillingly relaxes in his arms even as his surly voice replies, “I’m not pouting.”

“Yes, you are, Big Baby Daiki. Want me to change your diaper?” He coos, playfully nips at the warm skin in front of him.

That manages to coax out a laugh.  Aomine finally flips onto his back, turns his head to the side to glare sullenly. “Who was that on the phone?”

Kagami cocks an eyebrow incredulously. “That’s why you’re mad? 'Cause I was talking on the phone?”

“Just answer the question.”

Kagami reaches up, starts fiddling with Aomine’s short bangs. “It was Tatsuya. Remember me telling you about him? My childhood friend from when I lived in LA? He’s back in Tokyo to visit his parents and he wants to stop by and visit.”

Aomine seems to somewhat deflate.

“Oh.”

“Why are you mad?”

He turns his head away to stare at the ceiling, lips pursed. “You seemed happy. That he called.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

His gaze flits down to watch Kagami from the corner of his eyes, his mouth turning down. “That’s not—no! But—well, I….I don’t need any…uh. You know. Competition.” He’s struggling, looking vastly out of his element.

“Competition?”

Aomine looks away again, scratches at his cheek nervously. “Look, I’ve never met this guy. For all I know he’s some hot beefcake coming here to sweep you off your feet.” He mumbles, his voice muted in embarrassment. Ridiculous as his words sound, Kagami can tell that Aomine’s being completely serious; he can hear the underlying fear in his voice, see the tension in his body and worry etched in his features.

Kagami moves his hand down from Aomine’s hair to trace a finger across his bottom lip, feels warm breath stutter across his skin. “How appealing does making out with Momoi sound?” He asks quietly, completely deadpan, watches as Aomine’s nose crinkles with disgust.

“What? Ew, why would you even fucking ask that?” 

He indeed looks queasy at the mere thought. 

Kagami’s fingers lightly travel up his cupid’s bow before he gives a good pinch to Aomine’s nose, letting out a soft laugh at the nasal protest. “That’s what it would be like kissing Tatsuya. So calm down before I put you in the corner.”

They only have a few nights left together, just the two of them, and Kagami doesn’t want to waste them talking about this. He won’t deny that he’s totally over the moon that he’s going to be able to see Tatsuya after all this time. They grew up together, fought together, learned their sport together. But Kagami’s been just fine living without him for three years, and he’ll be just fine when he’s gone again.

That’s the difference here—he doesn’t think it would be easy to live happily again if Aomine were to do the same.

“I thought you were gonna do something nice for me tonight. Was that all talk?” Kagami murmurs, feeling bold as he begins kissing at Aomine’s throat and watches as goosebumps crop up all over the skin.

“You’re really asking for it, Taiga.” Aomine’s voice is strained, his body stiff as he stares straight at the ceiling. Kagami reaches out, doodles on Aomine’s bare chest with his finger and watches as he shivers, knows the resistance is childish and short-lived.

“Hm, I guess you were. That’s too bad. See, I was hoping that tonight I could suck you off—“and then his words are smothered by a passionate kiss, and he smiles into it as Aomine rolls on top of him.

Kagami wraps his arms around Aomine’s neck, holding him there, spreads his thighs so he has a place to settle. He’s really starting to get into it when his partner abruptly pulls away, enough so that he’s just beyond reach, his movements restricted by the arms around his neck. As Kagami looks up at his face he notices how easily flushed Aomine gets; red is already tinging his cheeks as he stares down, his expression earnest. He bends his head again, licks up Kagami’s neck and Kagami holds him tighter.

“Tell me I’m yours.” He whispers hotly into Kagami’s ear, his hand already reaching down to palm him through his underwear. 

"No. It's embarrassing."

And he can feel his face burning hot, and he breathes out gustily as Aomine sets a heavy hand on his upper thigh. 

"So you won't?" 

He can hear the teasing tone, but if their previous conversation is anything to go by Kagami knows he shouldn't be fooled by how lighthearted it sounds. He's never been a fan of lovey-dovey talk, always much preferred to convey his feeling through his actions. But if this is what he needs to say to put Aomine's mind at ease, he knows it's the least he could do. 

Kagami hesitates for only a second longer, then turns his head to the side with chagrin. “You’re mine. And I don’t want anybody else.” He says, voice hushed but unwavering. He must be getting sappy with old age.

Aomine pulls back, tilts Kagami's face back towards himself, watches him for a moment longer. He then nods, dips his head to peck at Kagami’s lips, the kiss quick but firm.

“Good.”

 

\--

 

The rest of the trip had been more or less uneventful. They had stayed inside almost the whole time, making full use of the bed, the couches, the bathtub. Once on the kitchen floor. On the last day, before they left, they had decided to take one quick stroll along the beach as a commemorative gesture. Aomine had thrown rocks into the ocean, screaming “Fuck you!” and kicking at any waves that approached his feet. Kagami had laughed, taken Aomine’s hand in his as they walked back to the car.

The drive home had been a bit more adventurous. Aomine had volunteered to drive solely so that he could have free reign of the stereo system, and had blasted ear-splitting 80's pop music the entire way. By the time they got back, Kagami was feeling vaguely nauseous, and he had to sit on the front stoop for a good five minutes to catch his breath. 

After his stomach settles, the first thing Kagami does as they begin unloading the car is call Tatsuya. His phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder, he helps Aomine take out duffel bags and empty food boxes from the trunk of the car. He picks up on the fifth ring, sounding slightly winded. Kagami gives his address and he enthusiastically agrees to show up on their doorstep within a few hours.

Then Kagami unwillingly goes to the house next door to pick up Nigou from the pet sitter, holds his leash as far from his body as physically possible and nearly sprints back to the house, Nigou’s stumpy little legs struggling to keep up. 

Kuroko and Kise were expected to be home around the same time as Tatsuya’s arrival, so the timing worked out perfectly. Soon, he would be reunited with his brother, and the quiet house would be buzzing with people and warmth, and Kagami wouldn’t be in charge of Nigou anymore.

(Thank God.)

In the meantime, he puts his unused clothes from his duffel back in the closet, dumping the dirty laundry in the washing machine. He puts his toiletries back in their proper place in the bathroom and doesn't make a peep as Aomine does the same, shucking his toothbrush and shaving stuff into the drawers under the sink, bunching his t-shirts and boxers into the empty pockets of Kagami’s dresser.

They had cleaned the house before leaving, so there wasn’t much left to do besides water the house plants and lament over the empty state of the refrigerator. Aomine lays down for a cat nap and Kagami does some last-minute dusting. He feels itchy—like he needs to move his legs, _do_ something. He knows it’s a side-effect of his near-crazed anticipation; he feels like a child again, nearly bouncing up and down, idly walking around the house for something to do to kill the time.

_Tatsuya’s coming, Tatsuya’s coming!_

By the third hour of being home, waiting in vain for something good to come on TV or for Aomine to wake up and entertain him, he finally hears the doorbell ring. He has to force himself not to race with Nigou as the puppy bounds ahead of him to bark at the door, pawing at the frame with a whine.

Kagami grimaces, reaches down with one hand to gingerly grip Nigou’s collar while twisting the doorknob with the other.

“Ugh, Nigou, get away—" He scowls, tugs the collar back at the same time he swings the door open and he looks up. He has to locate the muscles that work his jaw for a moment before he's able to get out a quiet, "Ah, hi.”

Tatsuya looks the same, but different. More mature. Kagami didn’t think it was possible but he’s grown, maybe not much in height but he’s filled out more, his chest broader. He also cut his hair, cleared his bangs away from his face so Kagami’s able to look into two silver eyes.  He looks more like an adult than Kagami could ever hope of pulling off.

Next to Tatsuya is a giant man that Kagami’s never seen before, his expression bored as he looks off to the side down the street. Kagami’s not a short guy, yet he has to crane his neck to look up into his face. He has an enormous bag of potato chips in his hands, and he’s steadily plowing through it, the rhythmic crunching almost hypnotic. Kagami can’t help himself but watch in silence for a few moments before shaking his head to break the spell, steps aside and gestures with his arm.

“Uh, please come in.”

As soon as Kagami releases Nigou's collar, the dog bounds off to begin sniffing the newcomers eagerly. He yaps once at Tatsuya before vibrating over to investigate the stranger's pants leg. Tatsuya toes his shoes off, and the moment he has them placed neatly next to the door he's stepping right up into Kagami's space, wrapping his arms around his middle and bringing them close together in a strong hug.

“Taiga. I’m so happy to see you.” He murmurs into Kagami’s ear, the arms around him growing tighter, his chin resting on Kagami’s shoulder. Kagami closes his eyes, squeezes him back, tips his head against shiny black hair. He can feel fingers tightly gripping his shirt, and he gives Tatsuya a few solid thumps on the back, takes deep inhaling breaths of a smell he will always associate with asphalt and knee scrapes, warm breezes and orange synthetic leather. 

“I’m glad to see you, too.” He says quietly, feeling nearly choked in emotion, and he gives one last squeeze before the two of them let go, the hug somewhat lingering. Tatsuya smiles up at him for a moment longer before he gets to work on unbuttoning his coat, the other man staring down at his feet like he’s considering if taking his shoes off will be worth the effort.  

Tatsuya carefully hooks his jacket on the coat rack, follows Kagami into the living room.

“When was the last time you saw Alex?” he asks, looking around with a polite amount of curiosity before immediately bee-lining for the framed pictures hanging on the wall. He picks out the one he’s looking for easily—Alex, Kagami, and Kuroko, sitting in front of a grill at a Korean barbecue joint, Alex in the middle, her arms flung tight around both of their necks, her smile huge and toothy. It’s clearly fairly recent—the only physical difference between the two of them is that at that point in time Kuroko’s hair was still long and pulled into a ponytail. 

Kagami stands next to him, looks at the neighboring frame—the two of them as children in LA, palm trees in the background as they both pose cheesily with basketballs, Alex’s shadow dark against the concrete as she takes the picture. “She visited last year—it was nice to see her, but weird that you weren't here too.”

“Mmm.” Tatsuya hums, a soft smile on his face as his eyes go from one picture to another. “I know what you mean. She stops by to eat sometimes, and it never feels completely right with just us three.”

Three. That's right. Kagami looks behind him to the other man, who’s looking around the room as well, his winter coat still on, mufflers covering his ears, his expression more interested than before. Now that the initial astonishment of his height has cleared away, Kagami’s next impression is sleepy.  It’s like the blood had become so exhausted running through those freakish limbs that it was too tired to power his brain by the time it got there. His eyes are droopy, his facial muscles so relaxed they almost look slack. His eyes are a soft lavender, a shade almost identical to the garish color of his hair.

Tatsuya notices him staring and turns around as well, his expression sheepish. “Ah, I’m sorry Taiga, I’m being rude. This is my companion, Murasakibara Atsushi.” As he says this he walks over to the man, reaches up to begin unzipping his winter jacket, Kagami just barely picking up the faint, "You’re going to get too warm.”

Murasakibara? Why does that name sound familiar? And now that he thinks about it, his face does too. He knows he's seen it somewhere before. It was a distant kind of familiarity—like trying to remember a dream after waking up, his train of thought blurry. But he _knows_ it's in his head somewhere. He’s straining, reaching for an answer that’s so close and obvious but just beyond his grasp.

He furrows his brows, confused as repeats that strange word.

“Companion?”

Tatsuya swivels his head around, his eyebrows raised up in surprise before he makes a loose ‘O’ with his mouth. He finishes pulling the zipper down, glances at Murasakibara out of the corner of his eyes before giving him a pat on the chest. He smiles at Kagami broadly. “He’s my roommate.”

“Oh. Uh, I see.”

He’s not completely stupid—he can tell there’s more between them than Tatsuya’s letting on, but before he can think of being snoopy and starting a little investigation he hears distant stomping coming down the stairs. He turns just in time to see Aomine clearing the corner, his eyes blurry with sleep, lines embedded into the side of his face from the pillowcase, wearing jeans and little else. 

“Taiga, have you seen my blue shirt? It’s the only nice one I have—oh.” Aomine stops short as he takes in the guests, gaze immediately drawn to the huge man standing in the living room. He’s quiet for a few moments, face blank, before his expression morphs into a kind of annoyance, his hand on his hip. 

“Son of a _bitch_. What the fuck are you doing here Murasakibara? I thought you lived in California now. What, they kick you out?” Aomine sneers, but Kagami can tell by his tone that he’s joking—there’s a poorly concealed smile on his face, his eyes sparkling. 

Murasakibara slowly glances away from his serious observation of the picture frames dotting the walls to meet Aomine’s eyes, his face completely stoic as he continues to make muffled crunching noises.

“Oh, Mine-chin.” He mumbles, his salt-coated fingers once again reaching into the bag, taking out a chip and delicately chipping off a corner with his teeth. “You took out your ear piercing. I’m glad. It didn’t look so good on you.” He drawls, his voice as slow as the rest of him, the corners of his lips turned up in a lazy smile.

“Well, isn’t that a mean thing to say to me after so long." Aomine says, shaking his head in mock hurt. "And are you kidding? It looked great on me. I was a total chick magnet.”

“Really? It looked to me like they were always running to Se-chin. Either way, it looked _stu~_ pid,” He sing-songs, his tongue poking out playfully.

“I’m this close to coming up there and giving you a piece of my mind, asshole.”

“Oh? I’d like to see you try, shrimpy.”

Aomine’s lip curls, his mouth open to retort when his eyes flick over, finally noticing Tatsuya by the wall next to Kagami. He blinks, straightens his back more, jerks his chin in their general direction.

“Who’s he?”

Kagami shoots him a withering glare.

“Daiki, this is Himuro Tatsuya.” He claps a protective hand on Tatsuya’s shoulder, watches Aomine sharply, hoping he’s effectively sending out ‘ _You better not be rude’_ with his eyes.

“Ah, the brother from another mother. Hey, I’m Aomine Daiki. I’m Taiga’s  ‘special man friend’.” He air quotes unnecessarily, and Kagami wants to slap his hands over his face in embarrassment but Tatsuya just laughs, steps forward to shake Aomine’s hand.

“A pleasure, Aomine-san. I’m a childhood friend of Taiga’s, but it seems you already knew that.” He says, warmly gripping his hand in both of his and shaking it.

Aomine nods with a tight, obviously forced smile before he takes his hand away, not-so-discreetly wiping it off on his jeans and Kagami’s simultaneously caught between his desire to murder Aomine and bury himself in a hole. He claps loudly, getting the three’s attention, gestures towards the couch. “So, Tatsuya, Murasakibara, have a seat anywhere. I have a quick thing to take care of with Daiki and we’ll be right back!”

He spins around, pinches Aomine’s elbow and tows him off down the hallway, drags him like a ragdoll up the stairs until he’s slamming his bedroom door shut and shoving Aomine on the bed, towers over him menacingly.

“ _Daiki._ ”

“What’s wrong Taiga? Your face is all red.” Aomine says innocently, readjusts himself into a more comfortable sitting position as he looks up with sickening doe-eyes.

“You know better than to be rude! He’s going to think you’re an asshole! I mean, you are, but you’re better than this!” Kagami’s trying not to yell—he doesn’t want to have to explain a small nuclear explosion to Tatsuya on top of apologizing for his boyfriend’s shitty attitude. He puts his hands on his hips, glares down fiercely.

“What the fuck’s your deal?" _  
_

Aomine’s looking at Kagami quietly, a strange expression on his face, half constipated and half irritated.

“He calls you by your first name.” he finally says, bluntly, his mouth turning down in a frown.  

Bewildered, Kagami throws his hands up in the air. “So do you! What’s the problem?”

Aomine scowls, stands up in the small space Kagami left between them until they’re nose-to-nose, gestures angrily. “I’m different! We—you’re my...! But Tetsu doesn’t even call you by your first name!”

Kagami bites on his tongue, takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes, searching within himself for any scrap of patience he hasn’t used up yet. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I doubt Kuroko’s ever used someone’s first name since he was born. He’s gonna be calling yellow head ‘Kise-kun’ at their wedding.” He grits out, backing up a few steps because the last thing he needs is to be cleaning blood spots off the carpet.

Aomine sighs, looks off the side forlornly. “I don’t like it.” He mumbles, rubs his hands up and down his bare arms.

Kagami exhales loudly, runs a hand through his hair. “Too bad. We’ve been over this before. I don’t know what to tell you other than you have nothing to be worried about.”

Aomine's quiet for another few seconds before he whispers so softly Kagami has to strain his ears to hear him.

“…he’s hot, too.”

“Jesus, Daiki. If anything, _I’m_ the one that should be worried. Don’t hit on him, okay?”

His eyes flash. “Like I would!”

“And if you’re rude to him again, you’ll be sleeping on the floor with Nigou.”

He furrows his brows, sits back down on the edge of the bed with a defeated huff. “Fine.”

Kagami relaxes his tense stance, crosses his arms across his chest, head cocked to the side curiously. “How do you know Murasakibara? You seem kind of close.”

He wasn’t able to really process it when it was happening, what with desperately thinking of the best possible way to get Aomine to _not_ come across as a complete jackass to Tatsuya, but Kagami’s only seen Aomine joke that naturally with very few people. Murasakibara must be someone pretty special.

Aomine flops backwards, tucks his arms under his head to look at the ceiling, clearly still moping. “Seriously? He’s on your fuckin’ wall of fame downstairs. He was a starter on our middle and high school teams. Played center.”

And now it makes so much sense.

The one picture on the wall of Kuroko’s infamous team. It's a fairly new picture—Kise had given it to Kuroko as a gift for their two month anniversary. It was hard not to notice every time he walked by, what with the multitude of heart-shaped stickers adorning the frame. Thinking about it now, he can clearly match the sleepy face in the picture to the one sitting in his living room. There's obviously a few years between them—his jaw's squared off more, and he's probably grown a few inches—but even then teenage-Murasakibara is still so much taller than everyone else that the top of his head is clipped out of the picture.

It’s weird. He’s already known Kuroko for a while now, and he’s met Momoi, Kise, Aomine, and now Murasakibara, all in the span of less than half a year. One right after the other. He thinks back to not even a week ago, shivering in a swaddling of blankets, listening to Riko enthusiastically reminisce her high school days.

“ _Well, I’m sure that at the rate you’re going you’ll meet all of them in no time.”_

What were the chances? That one of the members of that legendary team had already been indirectly linked to him through Tatsuya? There were billions of people in the world, an infinite number of possibilities. For two Japanese people to meet each other in the States at the same university, for them to get to know each other, for them to get so close that they were now together in Kagami's living room with a clearly affectionate relationship—it all seems impossible. Yet, here they were. 

Thinking about the odds of these encounters being a coincidence are making his head hurt. For now, he supposes he'll just have to accept that there’s probably a bit more than just a little fate weaved into all of this. There just wasn't any other explanation. 

He walks over to his closet and rummages inside, takes out a crisp blue button-up, carefully slips it off the hanger and tosses it to Aomine.

“I borrowed it, remember? Change and come back down, and keep in mind what I said.” He strides over to the door and slips out, a quiet “thanks” muttered behind him.

He rejoins Tatusya and Murasakibara in the living room, where Murasakibara has helped himself to the both the couch and the TV, and is clearly entranced by a competitive pastry cook-off as the chip bag crinkles in his lap. Tatsuya is still closely observing the Aomine-dubbed “wall of fame”, a small, fond smile never leaving his lips as he spends a long time looking at each photograph. Every now and then he’ll pause at a picture and laugh to himself, reaching out to touch the glass lightly with his fingertips.

Kagami leans against the entryway, watching quietly, a happy feeling burning like warm embers in his belly. He had _missed_ this. Just watching Tatsuya’s profile like this brought about those easy-going feelings of childhood that have been nearly completely lost to him in his adult life.

“I think he’s charming.” Tatsuya says suddenly, turning to grin at him in the doorway. Kagami blinks in surprise.

“Who is?”

Tatsuya laughs, turns and strides over to sit in the armchair, brings his legs up and crosses them like a pretzel. Nigou whines at his feet and Tatsuya eagerly pulls the puppy onto his lap, letting him lick at his face. He giggles.

“Your boyfriend. I like him.”

“You _do?”_ Kagami is flabbergasted. Were Tatsuya’s expectations really that low?

Tatsuya laughs again, louder this time and Murasakibara tears his eyes away from the TV to watch him, his expression something Kagami can’t pinpoint.

“Don’t looks so amazed! You picked him, didn’t you?”

“Actually, Muro-chin, Mine-chin does kind of suck.” Murasakibara pipes up, reaches into his bag before freezing, a look of absolute tragedy striking his face. “Oh…”

“Aw, did you run out?”

Murasakibara doesn’t reply, just balls up the bag with a loud crunch of foil and stares wistfully at the wad as if it will magically re-fill itself.

Tatsuya turns back to Kagami.

“As I was saying. I agree that he’s a bit…prickly. But I can tell that he likes you a lot, and that’s what really matters, right?”

Kagami looks down, scratches the back of his head with embarrassment. “Still doesn’t make it okay that his manners are fucking awful.” He mumbles, turns to the TV just as a pastry chef begins panicking about a cracked pan of gingerbread. 

“Well, Taiga, if memory serves me correctly, you’re not the most polite person I’ve ever met, either. Ah ah ah, don’t start with me! Do I need to remind you of the day you met Alex’s husband?”

And Kagami snaps his mouth shut, his protest dying with it, and scowls before slinking into the kitchen. He returns with a bag of Aomine’s coveted barbecue chips and tosses it to Murasakibara, who catches the bag deftly before staring at the front with pure awe. 

“Knock yourself out.”

“Oh, Taiga, don’t feed him! You’ll spoil his appetite for dinner!”

And almost as if he’s afraid Tatsuya will take the food from him, Murasakibara immediately rips the bag open and shoves an entire handful into his mouth at once, crumbs cascading down to stick to his shirt. Tatsuya leans back with a defeated _fwump,_ begins scratching Nigou behind his ears idly with a resigned sigh.

“Dinner? Are you making something?” Kagami asks curiously.

Tatsuya glances up, a smile beginning to replace his sour expression. “Well, no. But I was _hoping…”_ and Kagami definitely _does not_ like the twinkle in Tatsuya’s eyes; Tatsuya’s a nice guy, but even he was known to have his moments of pure evil, “…that you could take us to your restaurant!”

“To Seirin’s?” Kagami asks dumbly, frowning as Tatsuya nods his head enthusiastically. “But I’m there, like, every day of my life. Can’t we go somewhere else?” He pleads, his heart sinking at seeing the rock-solid resolve on Tatsuya’s face.

“No can do, Taiga. I absolutely insist. We’ll wait for Kuroko-kun to get back, of course.”

“ _Of course.”_ Kagami mimics spitefully, skulks over to the couch and sinks into it. 

Not a moment later does Aomine make a reappearance, peeking almost bashfully around the corner and speed-walking to plop next to Kagami. Mildly nervous that he'll open his mouth and start spewing shit again regardless of the warning, Kagami thinks of a quick and harmless distraction.

“When’s Momoi coming back?” He asks casually, leaning slightly into his partner's side.

“Ahhh, right.” Aomine drums his fingers in on his thigh, briefly runs them across the phone-lump in his pants pocket. “Satsuki texted me and said she was gonna carpool back from Tokyo with Kise and Tetsu.”

“So she’ll be back soon. They should have left by now,” Kagami says thoughtfully, then makes a noise of realization. “Oh, that reminds me.” And he grimaces, shoots a glare at Tatsuya before turning back apologetically. “Uh, Tatsuya wanted to see Seirin’s. So once they get back we’re probably gonna go there for dinner.”

The idea looks to be as appealing to Aomine as Kagami. His upper lip curls slightly, and he looks down at his lap. “They don’t like me over there,” he grumbles, shifts uncomfortably.

 _Oh, that’s right._ The last time Aomine was there, he got thoroughly chewed-out by the head chef, and Kagami had more or less ruined any hopes of Aomine being liked by his coworkers _ever._

“Uh. Well, probably not right _now._ But, uh, I’m sure once they got to know you—”

Aomine shoots him an incredulous look.

He quickly backtracks. “Well, I mean, I’m sure if you _tried._ And, uh, I’ll obviously tell them to, uh, not spit in your food. So. Well.”

“Thanks, Taiga. That makes me feel a lot better.”

Kagami shrugs helplessly, jumps at a particularly loud crunch and glances over at their other guest, whose face is apathetic as his mouth becomes further dusted with crumbs. He absentmindedly wonders who Murasakibara is to his brother. If he brought him all the way with him to Japan, to visit his  _parents_ no less, their relationship must be pretty serious, right? Why hide that, though?

As he thinks about this, he realizes he hasn’t actually said a single word to Murasakibara since the two of them stepped through the front door. He racks his brain for an interesting topic, anything they might have in common or something that could keep a conversation flowing smoothly. Basketball would ordinarily be his go-to, but he knows for most high school ball players the game is in the past for them now, he and Aomine being the exception to the rule.

He clears his throat loudly, turns a little more fully towards the man to his right who’s methodically licking the orange seasoning from his fingers.

“So, uh, what are you going to school for, Murasakibara?” He asks awkwardly. He hears Aomine cough to hide a laugh and he reaches blindly behind him to deliver a not-so-gentle elbow jab to his side.

Murasakibara glances up, licks his lips once before replying in a monotone, “Same as Muro-chin.”

Kagami’s eyebrows raise, his strained voice becoming more natural with his sudden interest. “You’re in law school? You want to be a lawyer?”

Murasakibara shrugs. “Mmm. I guess.”

Tatsuya leans forward in his chair, his face lighting up. “Don’t let his laid-back attitude fool you. Atsushi’s amazing in a debate, once he gets fired up.” He grins at Murasakibara, who then blushes an almost imperceptible pink.

“Muro-chin, stop it. You’re embarrassing me.” He deadpans.

Aomine shifts, the couch cushions dipping with his movement. “Ah, yeah, I can agree to that.” Kagami turns to find him nodding thoughtfully, his arm thrown across the top of the couch behind Kagami’s back. “He can get pretty scary.  Doesn’t happen very often, but he could make you crap your pants.”  

At that Tatsuya laughs loudly, and Nigou barks at him excitedly, his tail wagging like a black blur.

“Surprisingly enough, that’s not too far of an exaggeration! It’s a good story. I’ll have to tell it to you sometime.” Tatsuya says, smiling amiably and Kagami can feel Aomine stiffen up next to him.

This was as good an opportunity if Kagami's ever seen one. 

“Talk to Tatsuya.” He hisses out the corner of his mouth, his voice laced with an unspoken threat, finding himself smug to watch the mild terror cross Aomine’s face.

“About fucking what?” He mutters back, his fingers anxiously scratching against the upholstery.

“I don’t know. Tell him you think he’s hot.”

“Fuck off.”

Aomine coughs once, leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees. “So, erm, Himuro…-san.” He tacks on the honorific at the end clumsily and Kagami is already enjoying this way more than he should. 

“Yes?” Tatsuya looks delighted to be directly addressed as well, immediately swiveling the armchair to be facing the couch rather than the TV.

“How…um. How did, uh, you and Taiga? Meet. How did you meet.”

If Kagami could be rolling around on the floor right now struggling to breathe through his laughter he would—he would love nothing more than to take revenge for every time Aomine purposefully made him flustered; prodded and poked when he was already at the edge of a meltdown. But it _is_ genuinely important to him that the two of them have a good relationship, or in the very least a civil one. In a way, Tatsuya was like a representative of his family, and he would love nothing more than Aomine gaining his family’s approval. It wasn’t a necessity, but it would be a nice perk.

Considering this, he decides to be gracious—he sets a hand on the small of Aomine’s back, rubs in little circles for comfort as Tatsuya’s face lights up.

“Oh! Of course! Ah, well, thinking about it now, it’s not the most interesting story…” And then he prattles on for nearly ten minutes, making their meeting sound a lot more interesting than it really was. Kagami had just been a kid not expecting to make any friends in a new country, and Tatsuya had been the one to open Kagami’s eyes to a whole new world. He had been the one to draw out Kagami’s fire, to stoke the flames and keep them burning for all those years. He talked about their chains, and what they meant as brothers. He talked about Alex, and their street ball, and their rivalry. Their feud.

“…and then me, being the dramatic teenager I was, told Taiga ‘If either of us lose the next game, I can’t be your brother anymore. I’ll pretend like these chains never existed.’ Oh, I was so cruel.” Tatsuya grimaces, shooting an apologetic smile at his brother. Kagami just grins and shrugs—that was all in the past now. _Today_ is what’s most important, with Tatsuya talking across from him, an excited twinkle in his eye, talking about that unfortunate time in their lives like it was a bad joke. And in a way, it was. They could laugh about it now. In the past, during times when they were reunited with their mentor, Alex would bring it up like it was some hilarious punchline, rubbing it in with a laugh. “ _Wow, my boys were such idiots! Talk about lame! Hahaha!”_

Kagami glances at Aomine, who has been uncharacteristically quiet and attentive throughout the story. He hasn’t spoken a single word since Tatsuya began talking—his eyes haven’t left his face once, his fingers folded in front of his mouth.

“We worked it out, of course. Taiga’s high school team beat us my first year of high school. The loss kind of opened my eyes, I guess you could say." He shrugs with a wistful smile. “Well, that’s basically it. We graduated. Taiga went to culinary school, and I went back to the States to complete my undergrad and apply to law school. This is the third time we’ve met up since graduation. The first time was when we were nineteen, the second when we were twenty-two. And now here we are, twenty-five years old and still quite spry, eh, Taiga?”

“Maybe I am, but I don’t know about you. When was the last time you worked up a sweat? You’re looking kinda soft, Tatsuya.”

He scoffs, leans back in the armchair disdainfully. “I only have so much time for exercise when I have a million books to read through!”

“Geek.”

“Fine, be that way. Next time you can’t perform simple multiplication I’ll remember this.”

“That was _one time._ ”

“Keep telling yourself that. Your grades in high school speak for themselves.”

Kagami opens his mouth to retaliate, but he’s cut off before he can begin.

“So, what’s up with you and 'Sakibara? Are you guys fucking on the side or something?” Kagami startles as for the first time a in long streak of silence Aomine speaks; the deep rumble of his voice vibrates against the hand Kagami’s placed on his back. It takes him a moment to process the words, but after a moment he’s flooded with pure mortification.

“Oh my god, _Daiki._ _”_

“What? We both wanna know.”

“Now I remember why I don’t like hanging out with you, Mine-chin. No tact whatsoever.”

Kagami looks desperately to Tatsuya, whose mouth is hanging open with astonishment.

“Tatsuya, you don’t have to answer him. He’s a sociopath.”

“Aw, c’mon Taiga, back me up a little. I can’t be the only one sensing some serious bedroom eyes coming from Murasakibara.”

“Mine-chin, I’ll crush you.”

“Oi, get away from me! Taiga, stop him!”

“You got yourself into this mess, idiot. Whoa, hey! Get off me!"

“Can’t….breathe…!”

Tatsuya clears his throat. 

“Um.”

The three on the couch look up simultaneously—Murasakibara reaching across Kagami with his arm tight around Aomine’s head in a choke hold, Aomine desperately trying to tap out and Kagami struggling to breathe with this mammoth of a man practically sitting in his lap.

“If it’s okay with you, Atsushi. I’d like to tell them. Do you mind?”

Murasakibara releases Aomine at once, leans slowly back into his proper spot on the couch.

“Not really.” He mumbles, gathers his hair in bundle at the nape of his neck before letting go, his lips puckered in an unmistakable pout.

Tatsuya turns to Taiga, his smile bashful.

“Uh, well. I was going to wait, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any. So. Um. Well…” He coughs, his cheeks a little red. He tugs at his collar like it’ll help him say whatever he’s about to say.

Kagami’s never seen Tatsuya so flustered before. He’s always been the mature one—out of the two of them, he was the charmer, the easy-going smooth talker, the one that could get away with murder. This uncharacteristic hesitation has Kagami holding his breath, muscles wound tight.

Tatsuya opens his mouth to start more than once, his face screwed up uncomfortably, before finally he lets out a heavy breath and says in a rush, “Atsushi and I…well. We’re engaged.”

Kagami could tell the room was dead silent, but it was hard to tell himself that when the thud of heartbeat in his ears was near-deafening.

“Engaged?” He echoes, voice almost in a whisper. He’s completely still, frozen, not even breathing. He stares into molten silver, at the eyebrows pulled down low, the dip of teeth biting into cheek. Then all of a sudden he finds himself standing, leaning over Tatsuya in the armchair. Tatsuya’s eyes are huge, tension written onto each line of his face, and before Kagami can think through his next words, the first thing he blurts out is, “Do I get to be the best man?”

Tatsuya blinks, lets all his breath out in a slow  _whoosh._ “Oh. Of…of course, Taiga. I would love for you to be my best man.”

“Awesome.”

Kagami doesn’t know what to say. Honestly, Tatsuya should have thought this through a little better. This sudden dumping of brand new important information in Kagami’s brain was causing it to short-circuit. He could only stand there, looking from Tatsuya to Murasakibara and back in a daze, mumbling “awesome, holy shit, that’s awesome” over and over again.

“That’s…that’s great. Um. Wow. You’re getting _married.”_ Kagami honestly feels lightheaded.

Tatsuya laughs, gently sets Nigou on the floor and stands, throws his arms around Kagami’s back and crushes him to his chest.

“I’m so glad.”

Kagami is glad too. For so many reasons. His brother is getting married, and he'll get to be there right next to him when it happens. He'll get to be right there as they meet at the altar, as they say their vows. He'll get to be the first person to tell him "congratulations".

He hooks his arms under Tatsuya’s, holds him tighter, lifts him up and he twirls in circles, laughing maniacally, and Tatsuya’s yelling for Kagami to put him down, _he’s a grown man_ , but he’s just too happy.

His brother is getting married.

He finally sets Tatsuya down, grins at the sullen expression and pinches the puffed-out cheeks between his fingers.

“Aw, don’t make that face. I’m just so pumped. Your bachelor’s party is gonna be insane. How do you feel about strippers?” And Kagami grins deviously at Aomine, whose mouth pops open in shock.

“No.”

“I hear there’s this great club nearby, and that there’s this one really good dancer…what was his name? Pink Cat? Black Pan—“

“Taiga!”

Kagami laughs, waving off Tatsuya’s confused expression.

“Don't worry about it. But wow. Congratulations to both of you.”

“Yeah. Can’t believe you’re the first of us.” And Aomine’s grinning too, shooting sly looks to his old teammate and then _he’s_ the one nearly in Murasakibara’s lap, grasping his head in his hands and rubbing his knuckles through the silky lavender hair, ignoring the half-hearted protests. He stops the torture at sound of a low buzzing—he frowns, digs in his pocket for a second and takes out his phone. One glance at the screen and he’s scowling.

“Ugh, I gotta take this.” Then he slips out into the hallway with an irritated huff.

Kagami flops back where Aomine had been sitting, the seat cushions still warm. 

“Is that why’re you’re here in Japan? To tell your parents?” He asks breathlessly, nearly dizzy. He’s so energized right now he feels like he could run a marathon. His legs are jittery—he bounces them up and down, presses his palms into his knees in an attempt to calm himself.

“Mostly, yes. And of course I wanted to invite you and Kuroko-kun in person.”

Kagami scoffs. “Of course. But you’ll be getting married in California though, right? When?”

“Hopefully this summer. We’re thinking July.”

Kagami grins. “Wow. I bet Alex is beyond happy.”

“She, ah,” and Tatsuya shivers, as if the memory was too horrifying for words, “happy would be an understatement.”

Kagami thinks he hears Aomine yelling into the phone in the other room, but he’s too distracted to give any particular attention to it. He turns to Murasakibara, who’s looking off into the corner of the room, his face a little red, his bottom lip slightly puckered.

“Are you gonna be inviting Kise and the rest of them, too?” Kagami asks him, twists his torso and props his elbow on the back of the couch.   

“Uh.” Murasakibara looks upwards, his expression almost thoughtful. “Mido-chin’s a pain in the ass, but I guess I could let him know…but, he might not come anyway. He’s a party pooper. And it’s not like Se-chin can't come, if he’s going to be Kuro-chin’s date.” He squints, lets out a little sigh. “Se-chin is really annoying when he’s drunk.” He adds sadly.

“And Momoi?”

“I couldn't stop her if I tried."

“True.”

He’s so preoccupied thinking about the wedding, about when would be the best time to buy plane tickets, how to get the time off from work, how to make Tatsuya’s bachelor party the best the world’s ever seen—when Aomine comes back Kagami has to do a double take.

Furious. Kagami has never seen this expression on Aomine’s face before. All the other times Kagami thinks he’s seen Aomine angry, when his eyes narrow dangerously and his muscles bunch like he’s prepared to launch into a fight; they’re nothing, _nothing,_ compared to this rage that shrouds Aomine like a black aura.

Kagami’s up on his feet and his hands are on Aomine’s shoulders before he makes the conscious decision to do so.

“Daiki. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Aomine grips his wrist, silently tugs him into the kitchen and then suddenly he’s burying his face in Kagami’s neck, taking deep, measured breaths, his arms wrapped tight around Kagami’s middle.

Kagami hesitates for a moment before bringing an arm over Aomine’s shoulder, his other hand sliding up to run fingers through his hair comfortingly.

“Who was that on the phone?”

Aomine just shakes his head.

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” Kagami murmurs.

Aomine takes a deep, wet breath, shakes his head again, a couple strands of his hair tickling Kagami’s nose. “I…I can’t deal with this right now. Just…I’ll tell you later, okay? Once they’ve gone home. I want…I want us to have fun while they're here.” Aomine’s voice sounds broken and desolate; the anger seeped out to be replaced with despondency. Kagami feels so completely useless.

He opens his mouth, to say what he doesn’t know, but from the direction of the front door he hears a low thump, followed by a chorus of “We’re back!” and a cacophony of barking and high-pitched screaming that sounds suspiciously like Momoi.

Kagami sighs, pinches his eyes shut and holds Aomine to himself harder, rubs him between the shoulder blades.

“We should go say hi,” Aomine mumbles, nuzzles his nose against Kagami’s neck, his breaths the tiniest bit ragged and Kagami nods.

“Sure. Just…one more minute. They’ll be fine without us.”

Aomine doesn’t reply, and Kagami doesn’t pressure him to say anything. They stand there in the middle of the kitchen, listening to Momoi screech upon what Kagami assumes is seeing Murasakibara monopolizing the couch, and Kise crooning to Nigou and Kuroko exchanging pleasantries with Tatsuya.

After what feels like too long and too short at the same time, Aomine finally takes a big breath and lifts his head, his eyes somewhat glistening, and he fists his hands in the fabric at Kagami’s sides.

“I love you,” He says, and it’s so quiet yet unfaltering that Kagami can't question his sincerity for even a second. 

“I know.”

Then he takes Aomine’s hand in his and leads him outside to the others to begin the celebration.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What I Wouldn't Do" by Serena Ryder. it's like SO FLUFFY wow. I heard it for the first time a few days ago and it just makes you believe in true love and all that sappy crap. 
> 
> First things first: HOLY DIALOGUE. I think I let it get away from me a little bit. Also, sorry to everyone who thought I would make Tatsuya the angst machine and he turned out...not. haha i didn't want to make him the 'bad guy'. but there is a conflict coming up soon if that wasn't super clear, probably at the wedding which I'm hoping to start next chapter! Also, don't ask me why Tatsuya is the only one I call consistently by his first name, it's just what happened so roll with it haha
> 
> OMG WOW IS THIS THING MORE THAN 60,000 WORDS NOW??!! INCONCEIVABLE!! like seriously I never imagined it'd get to this length. and i wanted to thank everyone that's read from the beginning or who started in the middle or whenever. just knowing people read this and LIKE it (???) blows me away and brings me such happiness, so thank you. All the kudos and comments make my day, it means so much to me! 
> 
> And sorry this chapter took so long (3 months? MORE?!!) but school is a pain in the tushie and being the stupid chick i am i keep starting (and not finishing) other stories. ALSO ONE MORE THING! I'm kind of in the process of going through and editing past chapters. I find it EXTREMELY difficult to find the motivation to write future chapters when i'm discontent with the ones i've already written. So i'm basically going through them, editing parts I think sound weird or parts that seem bare to me. I won't change the plot, but if you ever decide to re-read (??? is that even a thing??) and you notice something's there that wasn't before, now you know why! 
> 
> AS always, my tumblr is smileyeeyore.tumblr.com! if it sounds like i'm desperate by now, it's because i am. what does a chick gotta do for some headcanons??


	13. why are you so cute?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, basketball, an airport, and hell.

“Alright boys, I want a good, clean game. Full-court, first team to fifty. And don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with any funny business. Ready?” Riko holds the ball in her little hands, glances left-to-right at the two men on either side of her for confirmation. The both of them nod, Kagami maybe a little _too_ enthusiastically, while Murasakibara simply sighs, widens his already imposing stance.

Kagami sucks in a breath, tenses his calves, his eyes focused unwavering on the ball in front of him. He has to look down a little, since the referee is a good foot shorter than he is, and there’s a shadow cast on the ball from the man across from him.  Kagami can tell that while Murasakibara is desperately pretending to be put off, there’s a dull fire glowing deep in his eyes, written in the twitching of his thigh muscles. He also knows that on the other side of the court, two masters in their own rights are preparing themselves to rip him apart. Anyone in his position would have an excuse to be apprehensive.

Except he isn’t.

He’s not worried in the least. Because he can feel two pairs of eyes cutting into his back, feels their nerves buzzing as if they were his own. With these two givers of light, he’s not going to lose.

Riko blows her whistle, and then throws the ball into the air.

 

 

 

_3 Hours Earlier_

 

 

Kagami could honestly say he never planned on staying at Seirin’s Bistro as long as he has. It was meant to be a place-holder job, something that he could milk as much money out of as possible, gaining experience, before he could apply for a position at a more prestigious restaurant. Someplace that didn’t have crayons to draw on the paper that covers the table. Someplace where people dressed up as best they could as they took their special someone out for an anniversary dinner. Maybe someplace with not quite so much fake ivy.

Yet he had long since admitted to himself that he had grown attached. The overwhelming smell of probably too much garlic, the gleaming chrome of the kitchen appliances, the familiarity so strong he could reach anywhere blindly with one-hundred percent accuracy.

But most of all, it was the people that drew him in and kept him there. Yeah, some days he didn’t feel like coming to work. He hates waking up early, and it’s no fun cooking when he’s groggy as fuck, and his feet usually hurt from standing and running around the entire day. But then again, he gets to listen to Hyuuga screaming into the phone from his office (it’s usually pretty funny), and Kiyoshi laughing boisterously as he shoves Izuki around, not even knowing his own strength. At the end of the day, he gets to smile and wave goodbye to his coworkers, people he could more easily call his friends. Before long, he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else. So he’s proud of this restaurant and even though he complains, he’s proud that he gets to show this place to his most important people, because he knows they’re going to love it as much as he does.  

But he can only hope that he gets to keep his job after this.

When the seven of them walk in, smacked right in the face with pleasant warmth and the usual garlic smell, the first thing Kagami notices is a short mop of brown hair at the front podium, the owner’s chin propped in their hands as they chat with Koganei. He’s working as host for the evening, crisp white shirt tucked neatly into black slacks, spiky hair combed and gelled to the side, but there are more than a couple fly-aways. He’s laughing, eyes crinkled into half-moons, and he pokes at the person’s forehead and they swat his hand away, making him laugh even harder. He perks up as he notices the group approaching, his mouth curled up in that undeniable feline way and he smiles brightly.

“Kagami!” He waves, Kagami raising a hand in response, and then he glances to the side, his smile growing even bigger. “And Kuroko! I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Good evening, Koganei-kun.” Kuroko murmurs fondly, his smile small and content as he holds onto Kise’s arm, leaning into him.

Koganei grins, sets his hands on his hips. “You need to come in more often! Man, I remember when you used to come pick this guy up every day!” He jabs a finger at Kagami. “We had lot a fun, didn’t we? Pranking Hyuuga? You remember the box of bees?"

Kuroko nods. “Yes. But I am also thankful that Kagami-kun was able to buy his own car.”

“ _Haha!_ That’s true! By the way, Kagami, I had no idea you had so many friends! Or are they just lost?” he teases, his voice warbling with what sounds like a purr, and Kagami imagines a tail flicking from side to side with mischief behind him. He chuckles good-naturedly, takes a threatening half-step forward and raises his knuckles in a clear warning: _one more word and you’re gonna get noogied._

“Shut up, Catface," he growls, his tone lacking any true bite, and Koganei laughs again. He seems to forget about his attempt at a hairstyle because he ruffles it, mussing clumps of hair to fall across his forehead. “Kidding, of course! Kidding! Okay, let’s see how many…” he trails off, beaming, and takes in the people in front of him. His eyes flick from face to face, mouthing numbers, picking up a menu from the podium with each. When he reaches Kagami’s side he suddenly falters, his bright smile abruptly struggling to stay in place. “And. Um. Hello, again…” He tips his head, and Kagami turns to find Aomine with an uncomfortable grimace.

“Uh. Yeah. Hi.” He scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, shifts on his feet and turns his head pointedly to stare at one of the cheap paintings on the wall. Kagami sighs. Well, it could be worse. If luck is on his side at all, Kiyoshi won’t be working tonight, and they can avoid any more awkward encounters for the rest of the evening.

He steps closer to the podium, his arm just barely brushing the shoulder of Koganei’s friend. “Could we get a table for, uh…” He turns to quickly count, Koganei having become sidetracked. “Seven.”

The host nods enthusiastically, seeming grateful for the change of topic. “Sure, no problem! Lemme go see if Mitobe’s got a table open.” He steps out behind the podium, his eyes already locked onto a tall and quiet figure across the restaurant, but before he can get more than a few steps away his friend waves him down. “Shinji! Make that a table for eight, kay?”

_That voice…_

Koganei turns, blinks twice in quick, confused succession before he flashes another grin and a thumbs-up. “You got it, boss!” Then he grabs another menu from the podium, tucks the bunch under his arm, and scurries away.

Kagami knows he’s heard that voice somewhere before, but he’s having trouble placing it. He stares at Koganei’s back as he weaves between tables, lost in his thoughts, so he startles when he hears the sweet and feminine voice address him from somewhere around chest-level.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right, Kagami-kun?”

He tears his distracted gaze away and glances down, is met with sparkling brown eyes and he jolts. “Riko! What are you doing here?”

At first he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him, but after a long moment of observation he's relieved to find that he's not mistaken. In his defense, he’s never seen her in her casual civilian clothes before. Her eyelashes look unnaturally dark and long, and her lips are redder than he remembered. But he recognizes that fire; that feeling of power and authority that seems to emanate from her tiny frame. It's hard to believe that they’d only met once no more than a week ago.

She sighs, placing one hand on her hip, the other sweeping her bangs away from her eyes. “Didn’t I say I was gonna come visit? Honestly, just in one ear and out the other.” But she’s looking at him piteously, as if she’d expected this kind of thing from him.

He frowns. “Yeah, but…I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d be here.” _Not this soon, at least._

She narrows her eyes dangerously. “What? You trynna avoid me or something?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He rushes to say, feeling slightly guilty as he does, because he’s only being partially honest. He really is happy to see her, but he’s not quite so thrilled at being reminded of how they met in the first place. And how he had yet to tell Kuroko the events that led up to him and Aomine getting together. All he had told him was that the trip opened his eyes to how he felt, just not in explicit detail. And he had a sneaking suspicion that Kuroko would be none too happy of finding out Kagami had been keeping something from him.

But Riko seems to not detect his half-truth, because she laughs. “I’m just messing with you, Kagami-kun!” She slaps his arm and he finds that immediately it begins to ache dully. “I just love playing with big dumb boys like you,” she continues impishly, before glancing behind Kagami's shoulder. Her smile widens. “Ah, and I see you brought Aomine-kun!”

He twists around to find that his boyfriend’s tense posture from before has somewhat relaxed, and that his hands are now stuffed into his pockets. He nods at her. “Yo.”

“Whoa, try n’ tone down the enthusiasm. It’s overwhelming,” she replies dryly, before she inspects the rest of the people in front of her. Instantly, her face brightens, and as she takes them in her expression becomes dreamier by the second, going so far as to curl a strand of hair around her finger like a love-struck school girl. “Oh, all your numbers are off the charts,” she sighs, looking Tatsuya up and down like he’s something to eat, and Kagami half-expects her to lick her lips. “Absolutely lovely,” she murmurs, pausing when her eyes reach Momoi. When their gazes meet, abruptly her nose crinkles, and her mouth twists sourly. 

“Hey, Kagami-kun. Introduce me to your friends.”

Her voice has completely lost all of its delighted sweetness and now sounds marginally disgusted, accentuated with a hard edge. He glances from Riko to Momoi, who’s looking off the side nonchalantly, fingers absentmindedly braiding a chunk of her hair, and he furrows his brows. “Er, sure." He gestures towards Tatsuya, who's looking unabashed in his excitement at seeing where Kagami works, only a little of his attention focused on what's going on around him as he scours the restaurant. "This is Tatsuya, my childhood friend, and that’s his fiancée, Murasakibara." The man in question is shuffling fitfully from foot to foot, staring at the nearby table, his eyes following the pathway of silverware hungrily. "This is my roommate, Kuroko, and his boyfriend, Kise." Kise waves merrily, and Riko grins back at him. Kagami watches her face closely, and as he reaches Momoi at the end of the line he notes only then does her pleasant smile become bitter.

"This is—"

“I don’t suppose you’d remember me, Momoi-san,” Riko interrupts scathingly, her smile unmistakably mocking, her tone hostile.

Momoi jumps slightly, as if she hadn’t been paying attention at all until now. She looks at Riko with large doe eyes, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. “And who might you be?” she trills sweetly, pursing her lips like she’s trying hard to remember something.

That apparently was not the right thing to say, as Kagami can _see_ Riko’s jaw clench as she grinds her teeth together, hands curling into fists at her sides.

Aomine grunts, reaches over and solidly flicks Momoi on the forehead. She yelps, slapping her hands over the reddening skin, and he rolls his eyes. “Knock it off with the bullshit, Satsuki. Don’t pretend like you don’t know who she is. It's fucking stupid." 

She glares up at him for a moment, expression betrayed, before she sighs, drops her hands just to gather her long hair over one of her shoulders. “Whatever.” She turns back to Riko, rolls her eyes so hard Kagami's actually kind of impressed. “Aida Riko. One-hundred and fifty-six centimeters. Blood type A. Aquarius. First high-school aged female to coach a winning Tokyo team." She ticks them off rapid-fire, not even pausing to catch her breath and Kagami can feel his jaw hanging open. When he looks to Aomine for any kind of explanation, he just gets a shrug in return. 

Riko herself continues to look completely unsurprised and unamused. “And?” she prompts, and Kagami has no idea what she could possibly be fishing for at this point, but Momoi finally seems to concede defeat with a huff.

“And I also may have made out with her in a utility closet during the Spring High our third year," Momoi finally grits out, heaves out a big breath of air with irritation.

“Mmhmm. There it is.” Riko's smirking, triumphant, and she finally seems satisfied as she turns to holler across the restaurant floor, “Hey, Shinji! Tables’s good now?”

“Yeah, got it all set up! Come on over!”

“Great!” Riko turns, waves them all to follow her. They begin picking their way carefully around the tables, the patrons eating their meals not even bothering to hide their gawking, and Kagami feels kind of like a caged animal at a zoo. He can’t really blame them, seeing as the majority of their group cleared six feet and sported an impressive array of hair colors. 

Aomine bumps his shoulder into Momoi as they walk, grins down at her smugly. “You made out with her? You never told me that,” he teases, and Momoi blushes straight to her roots, her skin matching the pastel color of her hair.

“It wasn’t exactly a shining moment of mine, Daiki. She’s horrible,” she hisses back, and Aomine cocks an eyebrow.

"So horrible you just _had_ to swap spit? Makes sense." 

Momoi just makes an angry, frustrated noise in response, and Aomine grins lecherously at her.

“Was there tongue?”

She shoves him, and he laughs.

“Go away, you pig.”

“Leave her alone,” Kagami growls, pulls Aomine away by the elbow to give her some space as they reach their table. It’s large and round, and placed right next to one of the wide windows, letting in the last of the setting sun. They take their seats in their respective pairs, Riko and Momoi being the odd ones out end up sitting side-by-side, the two of them looking rather sour about the arrangements but they play off their dissatisfaction well.

Koganei hands everyone a menu, and Mitobe fills glasses with ice water as they settle.

“Oh, everything looks delicious! How am I ever going to choose?” Tatsuya says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he scans the long sheet of laminated paper.

“How about we just get one of everything,” his fiancée replies, looking the most animated Kagami’s ever seen him, his eyes wide and sparkling and his lips look like they’re quivering.

“Don’t drool, darling.”

“I’m not.” But he does surreptitiously drag his sleeve across his mouth, and Kagami holds back a snort. “Guys, don’t worry about it too much. I promise everything here is edible,” he says, not even bothering to look at his menu. He’s had everything on it more times than he can count, and the steak never fails to make him happy in a way that’s nearly indecent. 

He jumps slightly as from underneath the table, he feels a big, warm hand start to slide up and down his thigh. Knowing that there could only be one culprit, he turns to stare at Aomine, who's looking straight forward even as his lips are pressed tightly together to hide a smile. Kagami raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing,” he deadpans quietly, and the hard line of Aomine's lips break in a smirk before he turns his head, mouth right at Kagami’s ear.

“I was just thinking that you’re the most edible thing here,” he murmurs, and Kagami turns so red he’s surprised steam doesn't come out of his ears.

“That’s—“

“ _Ooooh_ , look how red Kagamicchi is! Are you two doing something _naughty_ under the tablecloth? Kurokocchi, check for me! Catch them in the act!”

“Kise-kun, not so loud.”

Riko looks between the two of them, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Huh?”

Still red as a tomato, Kagami tries to ignore the steadily creeping hand on his leg. “ _’Huh’_ what?” he asks, and he bites his lip as Aomine squeezes the soft flesh of his inner thigh. “Knock it off,” he mutters from the corner of his mouth.

“Make me,” Aomine murmurs back quietly.

“You two are…you know. Together?” she asks, poking her two index fingers together to better make her point.

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” Kagami mutters, his face flaring up for another round and he jumps again as Aomine suddenly loops his arm over Kagami’s shoulders, his expression somber. “He’s the honey to my bee, the sea to my shell. He’s the king of my heart and— _hey_ , that fucking hurt!”

In a fit of embarrassment, Kagami had taken a fistful of Aomine’s hair and pulled, and now he presses a finger to Aomine’s curled lips and looks around desperately. “ _Shh!_ This is a family restaurant! There are kids here!”

“They’re gonna hear swear words even if I don’t say ‘em!“

“You’re impossible,” Kagami groans, and Riko laughs, leans her elbows on the table and waggles her eyebrows.

“Oh, I _see._ So it was an act of _love_ I saw that day. I should’ve known.” She knocks her knuckles against her temple with a shake of her head, then props her chin in her palm to gleefully leer at them.

Now it was both their turns to flush, Aomine’s less conspicuous under the brown of his skin but no less obvious. "How about we not talk about that right now," Kagami pleads, his eyes flicking desperately from Riko to Kuroko, his stomach sinking as he sees that his best friend is watching them curiously. Kagami's trying to send the message ‘ _please shut up’_ to her telepathically, but he’s getting better at reading her and he can see that it’s too late. She’s grabbed on, jaws locked, and she’s not letting go.

“You should’ve _told_ me, you guys,” she whines, but Kagami can see the wry smile underneath the put-off façade. “Now that I know _that,_ it’s truly a love story for the ages.” She tsks, shakes her head again and Tatsuya leans forward with interest.

“What do you mean? What happened?” he asks eagerly.

“Yes, I’m also interested to know how Kagami-kun came to make your acquaintance,” Kuroko pipes up, staring into what Kagami thinks is his very soul and he sinks down in the chair. _Great_.

Riko claps her hands together excitedly, and even Momoi turns to watch her with curiosity. “I’m so glad you asked! Now that I know the situation, it’s probably the most romantic story I know! Okay, here goes. It was a day like any other, and I was having a nice day drinking tea and filling out paperwork at the station—I work for the coast guard, by the way—and all of a sudden we get an emergency call—“

She makes the story drag on as long as possible, even uses the crayons that Koganei had laid out for them to draw it out in excruciating detail. With each minute Kagami feels his stomach sink lower and lower, and his butt slips lower and lower into his chair. He tips his head down to stare at the blank, white paper on the table in front of him and pretends he doesn’t feel fiery blue eyes burning his scalp.

She’s just getting to the part where Aomine had tried burning his tongue off with hot cider at the station when their food arrives, and the two of them audibly sigh with relief. Mitobe quietly sets Kagami’s steak in front of him, and he inhales the rich, charred smell, saliva pooling in his mouth so quickly it's nearly painful.

Immediately Riko stuffs her face with a huge bite of meatloaf, gravy dripping down her lip and she stabs her fork in their direction, mumbles around her mouthful, “’M still gonna finith my shtory once ‘m done wiff dis,” she warns, spearing a steamed carrot and Kagami groans helplessly. He begins cutting his steak into more socially acceptable pieces as beside him, Aomine chows down on his teriyaki burger, making happy little noises as he chews. Tatsuya had ended up allowing Murasakibara to pick two items from the menu, and he had settled on a pasta dish and the same steak as Kagami. Momoi had ordered a bowl of soup, Kuroko and Kise both with different types of ravioli and the two of them sample from each other’s plates.

There’s several minutes of relative quiet and lull in conversation, Kagami stealing fries off Aomine’s plate as sneakily as he can, but it’s really not that hard to do when his victim’s eyes are closed with reverent bliss. 

“You know, I just realized…”

He glances up, fingers digging into greasy strips of potato, to find Kise looking around the table thoughtfully, nibbling at the edges of a ravioli. “There’s an even amount of people here.”

Kagami’s not the only one confused—even Kuroko is staring at his boyfriend quizzically. Surprisingly, it’s Aomine who seems to catch on first. He slams his hands down on the table, making it shake, and everyone jumps. He’s glowing, half-standing in his seat and he leans forward.

“ _Could we play some basketball?”_

And Kagami nearly chokes on his food, and when he gets it down he manages to get out a little “ _oh,”_ the noise bordering on a needy whine, and Aomine grabs his knee under the table. He turns to stare at Kagami, eyes wide and on fire.

“ _Babe.”_

“Watch out. Looks like they’re gonna cream their pants.” Riko laughs, and Kagami sputters.

“I’m not gonna cum in my—!”

“Kagami-kun, not so loud.”

“So can we?” Aomine cuts in, practically vibrating, and Kuroko bites the ravioli off of Kise’s fork. “I don’t see why not,” he says, somehow managing to be coherent even as he chews.

“I think it sounds like a fun idea!” Tatusya adds, nudges Murasakibara with his elbow and he glances up from his meal, pouting. “I’ll need like…half an hour to digest,” he grumbles, sighing with resignation. 

“Good. We’re doing it.” Kagami grins, then begins shoving food in his mouth with renewed enthusiasm, completely overjoyed at this turn of events.  _  
_

 

\---

 

Kise only whines a little bit at having to be split up from his beloved. They had drawn straws to decide the teams—three on three, Murasakibara, Tatsuya, and Kise against Aomine, Kagami, and Kuroko.   

Even though it meant for the most part playing in jeans and collared shirts, they head to the park right after dinner without going back first to change. Being winter, even though it was still fairly early in the evening the sun had already completely dipped below the horizon, the street lamps glowed on, bathing the court in artificial light. The remains of the previous year's snowfall were pushed to the sides, little piles of slush slowly turning brown and caving in on themselves. It was freezing, and the temperature was rapidly dropping the longer the moon had time to rise in the sky.

They sit around, huddling for warmth, laughing and chatting until Murasakibara deems his stomach ready. Riko volunteers to referee the game, and Momoi claims that she’d prefer to watch, even though she immediately goes off to whisper conspiratorially with Tatusya’s team as soon as the two of them separate to warm up.

Kagami stretches his legs, sits on the ground and reaches for his toes, groaning when he feels hands push against his back to make him bend even more, his chin nearly at his knees. “Ugh, that hurts,” he grimaces as his muscles protest, and there’s a laugh puffed into his ear.

“Damn. You’re so tight, baby,” Aomine whispers, his hands running up to dig fingers into Kagami’s shoulder blades, and then he laughs and springs away as Kagami whips around to swat at him. 

“Keep it up, and you'll be eating Momoi's cooking for the rest of your life,” he threatens, turns around to continue, intent on ignoring him.

“I’m serious. I’ll help you stretch,” Aomine laughs, then returns to sit behind Kagami, his legs criss-crossed on the concrete. He presses his palms into Kagami's back and pushes more gently this time, and Kagami sighs because now it actually feels kind of good. Aomine’s hands are warm and it’s seeping through the fabric of his shirt, something more than welcome in this biting cold.

“So what do you think?” Aomine asks quietly, and when Kagami turns questioningly he points towards their competition on the other side of the court. Momoi’s still talking quietly with Tatusya and continuously glancing over at them, Murasakibara lying spread-eagle on his back in what must have started as a stretch but ended up as a catnap.

“I just know Satsuki is strategizing over there. She’s never seen you play, but she’s got tons of dirt on me and Tetsu. It could be bad,” he says seriously, allows Kagami to straighten and he turns around to face Aomine, his legs spread on either side of Aomine’s crossed knees in a wide V. 

“So what do you think we should do?” he asks, rolls his neck in circles, joints popping.

“You’re askin’ the wrong guy. Strategy was never my style. But…” he glances over Kagami’s shoulder, cups his hand over his mouth. “Tetsu! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Kagami twists just in time to see Kise scowling at the two of them before bending down to quickly kiss Kuroko on the cheek and retreating to join his team.Kuroko heads over, carefully sits down on the ground and pulls his knees to his chest.

“I think Momoi-san’s talents could pose a problem for us,” he says, looking at the two of them seriously, and Aomine nods.

“Yeah, we were just talking about that. She knows all my stuff probably better than I do, and even though she hasn’t seen you play in a while I’m sure she remembers everything. All she knows about Taiga is that he’s good,” Aomine gripes, props his elbows on his knees to cup his face in his hands.

“That’s true. Kagami-kun, how is Himuro-kun?”

Kagami thinks for a second, absentmindedly breathes hot air into his chilled fingers. “He’s more…by-the-book, I guess. But he's also kinda....tricky. In high school, we were pretty much evenly matched.”

"Hmmm. So pretty good then," Aomine hums appreciatively, then laughs. “Well, I’m probably just gonna do what I do best—guns out and blazin’ from the start.”

Kuroko nods gravely. “I agree that we should see how they play together before we make any decisions. We can adjust our play as we go.”

Just as the three of them stand, they look to the center of the court at the sound of a whistle. Riko stands there, a basketball in her hands, the whistle now dangling around a cord from her neck. She beckons them all over.

“Teams, pick your center for the tip-off," she says, begins dribbling the ball with herself idly, and the three of them glance at each other.

“Kagami-kun, you can jump the highest,” Kuroko says simply, patting him on the back before retreating to the edge of the center circle. Aomine sets a heavy hand on his shoulder, expression solemn.

“Go get ‘em, sweetcheeks.”

“Always for you,  _dear_ ,” Kagami coos back snidely, and Aomine snorts before edging to the circle on the opposite side as Kuroko.

The other team chooses Murasakibara, the obvious choice with his insane height, and the two of them meet in the middle of the circle, Riko between them. She stops dribbling the ball, holding it still between her hands. She takes a deep breath, abruptly all-business.

“Alright boys, I want a good, clean game. Full-court, first team to fifty.  And don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with any funny business. Ready?”

 

\---

 

They are absolute magic.

When the three of them play together, it makes Kagami rethink his non-belief of soulmates. And not just in the romantic sense. Long ago, Tatsuya had told him that he believed that everyone had many soulmates. Some were your grandparents, your friends, maybe your lover. He told Kagami that you had more than one person that you had the potential to meet throughout your life and just _click_ with. He believed that you may meet them, that you may not—it wasn’t a given. But he said that when you did, you’d know, because being with them was easy as breathing—you didn’t have to worry about being anything but yourself, because your souls were made to be with each other.

Right now, sweat dripping from his chin, soaking his shirt and sticking the material to his back, he’s thinking about soulmates. By Tatsuya’s logic, it’s a given that Kuroko is one in a platonic sense. Ever since they met, Kagami never had to put up a front, never had to strain for comfort. It had been a given.

And, romantic or not, he’s beginning to think Aomine is one of his as well.  

Because he’s never felt so alive playing a game of basketball. Maybe in his whole life, period. This is the first time the three have played together—it’s always been Kagami with Kuroko on the street courts, or with Aomine—and more often than not, they’ve been playing _against_ each other, not as a team. But he’s starting to regret not doing this sooner, because it’s _extraordinary_.

As soon as Riko blows the whistle, Kagami and Murasakibara leap into the air to tip the ball in their favor. Even though Kagami jumps higher, Murasakibara’s long arms reach the ball first, and he slams the ball into Tatsuya’s waiting hands.

Immediately, they all gun it towards Tatsuya’s team’s basket, the defense man-on-man, Kagami guarding his brother, Kuroko on Kise and Aomine on Murasakibara. Kagami’s on his toes, watching, his nerves on edge, never looking away from Tatsuya’s eyes. He smiles at Kagami as he dribbles.

“I missed this,” he says softly, cutting for a fake but Kagami sees through it and stands his ground. He smiles back, arms spread wide.

“I did too.”

“No hard feelings whoever wins, okay?”

“Of course.” Kagami grins, watching as Tatsuya’s eyes dart beyond his shoulder. _He’s going to pass to Murasakibara_ —Kagami can feel it. But he also knows he doesn’t have to worry about it.

So he lets it happen.

As soon as the ball leaves Tatsuya’s hands, Kagami sprints for his side of the court, and Tatsuya makes a surprised noise behind him. It doesn’t take long—within half a second, he hears a loud “Kagami-kun!” and he turns as he runs, catches the ball that had been chucked at him from the other side of the court. He easily jumps for a lay-up, the ball swishing the net gently.

He turns, grinning with victory, and he almost laughs seeing Tatsuya’s face, his mouth hanging open, slack-jawed.

“What the hell was _that?”_

It was Riko who had said it—she scribbles something on a notebook that seems to have appeared from thin air, her eyes wide on Kagami, and he shrugs. “I knew he’d intercept the pass," he says simply, meeting Kuroko for a fist-bump. Tatsuya collects the ball that had rolled to rest against the fence, sending a bewildered look towards Momoi. “You really weren’t kidding,” he laughs. Momoi, who’s standing on the sidelines, narrows her eyes shrewdly as if deep in thought.  

Aomine jogs over to join Kuroko and Kagami in their little semi-circle.

“I doubt that will work anymore,” Kuroko whispers. “So Kagami-kun, try to not let Himuro-kun pass.”

“Got it,” Kagami nods, Aomine propping his elbow on Kuroko’s shoulder and leaning on him.

“I see you still got your stuff,” he says, drums his fingers on top of Kuroko’s head and then he wheezes as an elbow finds its way into his ribcage.

“Of course I do. But I’m eager to see how rusty you’ve gotten, Aomine-kun.” Kuroko jabs lightly, stepping out from the elbow and walking away. 

Aomine grins, rubbing his chest with a slight wince. “Is that a challenge?” he calls after him.

Kuroko turns to look innocently over his shoulder. “Did it sound like one?”

“Oh, _that’s it._ Taiga, if you get the ball, pass it to me. I gotta show up the little blue bird," Aomine growls. 

“Hey, can we cut the chit-chat? Some of us wanna play here!” Kise yells, receives the ball from Tatsuya and doesn’t give them a moment to reply before he’s sprinting towards his basket, and Kagami and Aomine share a glance before they’re booking it after him. 

This time around, Kagami's more cautious about letting passes slip by him. But it's harder than he expected—even when he knows one is coming, for some reason it looks like the ball ghosts right through his fingers. He knows that a part of it can be chalked up to Tatsuya being crafty as usual, but it's more than that. The thought of soulmates pops up against watching Tatsuya with Murasakibara. There's a freakish level of telepathy going on—it’s like neither of them have to see each other to know where the other is, they just _know._ The passes they send to one another are on par with Kuroko accuracy-wise, and when either of them make a basket they just look at each other, unspoken words passing between them. Kagami finds it hard to believe the two of them had never played on a team together before, because the degree of chemistry and seamless, coordinated movements are equivalent to players Kagami knows have played together for years.

It’s also the first time Kagami’s played Kise, and that in itself is as frustrating as it is remarkable. Because it’s beyond irritating being proud of a move—of a nicely executed roll around Tatsuya before charging for the net, or of a dunk he feels was pulled off especially well—and then have the same thing thrown back in his face, looking better than when he had done it himself. Kise’s a laid-back guy—he’s usually cheery, loud, and sometimes kind of annoying. But Kagami hadn’t anticipated this side of him even _existed._ This side that's uncharacteristically intimidating and merciless; that pitilessly slams the ball out of his own boyfriend’s hands, the side that stares at his opponents with piercing golden eyes in a way that very nearly raises the hair all along Kagami's arms. 

Momoi becomes a problem for them once the points hit the twenties. All it took was one time-out; just two minutes tops of Momoi whispering quietly, and all of a sudden the other team were ten times a bigger pain in the ass than they were before. 

"What did she fucking  _tell_ them?" Kagami gasps, braces his hands on his knees for moment before Kuroko passes him the ball. Kagami begins dribbling down the court almost leisurely, trying to get his breath back a little before they start their next play. 

"I don't know, but Murasakibara-kun is stopping all of your close-range attempts. If you think you can manage it, why not try shooting from beyond the three-point line?" 

" _If I think I can manage it,"_ Kagami scoffs. "Great vote of confidence. I'm not completely fucking useless, thanks."

"I was not implying that. But three's are not one of your strengths, and you know it." 

"Yeah, yeah." He crinkles his nose sourly.

"Don't worry. I'll help you," Kuroko adds more quietly, playfully pokes at Kagami's side with his index finger, and Kagami grins down at him. "As if I'd just let you stand there," he says, slows his pace even more as he reaches Tatsuya, who's been waiting for him. He's just considering the three-point line contemplatively when he sees a blur from the corner of his eye—he doesn't even think; he throws the ball at the ground to make it bounce, hard. When his eyes finally are able to relay the lightning-fast images to his brain, Aomine's already gripping the rim of the basket with both hands, the ball thunking dully against the concrete below him. He whoops.

"See that? Pretty sweet, right?" he crows, and Kagami looks to Murasakibara—he's glaring, his arm still outstretched like he had been in the middle of a block attempt, and Aomine shrugs. "'Sakibara's fast, but I'm faster." He turns to his old teammate, the man's lip curling. "Isn't that right?" he taunts, and Murasakibara looks ready to kill. "Didn't even see it comin'!"

Kagami suddenly feels a little more breathless than he was a moment ago. 

The game continues on from there, and they juggle the points between them. Sometimes one team would fall behind by two or four or six points but never more, and they would always catch up until the two are even again, possibly even pulling ahead. They’re all nearing exhaustion, but Kagami doesn't fail to notice that both Kise and Aomine are looking a little less burnt out than the rest of them. As his legs ache in a way he's kind of embarrassed by, he reasons that they _had_ to be in the best shape, considering they basically worked out for a living. _Damn strippers._

The game lasts for more than an hour, and by the time Kuroko shoots his nearly-unavoidable shot, getting his team to the final fiftieth point, they are all dead on their feet. Kagami’s happy they won, he really is, but he can only taste victory so much when he thinks his lungs are about to implode. He’s unsteady, doesn’t trust his legs to carry him anywhere in a safe manner, so he sits where he was standing when the final point was won. He attempts to catch his breath, his mouth tasting faintly of iron, and his vision swims just a little bit in front of his eyes.

“Good…good game,” Tatsuya wheezes to no one in particular, looking worse off than Kagami feels, his face completely flushed bright red and his legs wobble as he moves to sit next to Momoi on the side of the court. He puts his hands on top of his head and takes deep, gulping breaths, and she pats him on the back with soothing words.

“Ugh, all that work and I didn’t even win!” Kise howls, flops himself pathetically to lie face-down on the ground, keening wordlessly. Kuroko moves to sit next to him, his eyes weary, and he pinches the back of Kise’s neck. “You are an enormous child,” he says, and Kise whines but doesn’t roll away, just wriggles until his forehead it pressed into Kuroko’s thigh instead of the concrete.

From underneath the net, Murasakibara's panting, his hair wet and stringy around his face with sweat. “I’m hungry," he moans, looks at Kise lying down with a look resembling envy. He glances over at Tatsuya, who’s watching him with a raised eyebrow, and he points at Kise. “Muro-chin, can I—“

“No, Atsushi. It’s dirty.” He drops his arms from his head, his breathing somewhat stabilized, and he holds out his arms invitingly, his hands making little grabby motions. “Come here and carry me to the car. My legs won’t move.”

The dimples in Murasakibara’s chin deepen as he frowns, but he slowly meanders over regardless. In one fluid motion, he pulls Tatsuya to his feet, lifts him slightly and sets Tatsuya's feet on top of his own shoes. Tatsuya stretches up to wrap his arms around Murasakibara’s neck, and he leans down compliantly until their foreheads are pressed together. They end up speaking to each other like that in hushed voices instead of heading towards the parking lot, and Kagami watches them with a happy tingle in his belly.

Just as his heartrate starts to drop and the frigid night wind is really making its presence known, Aomine drops down abruptly so they’re sitting side-by-side. They both look up at the sky, now filled with myriad stars and a bright, fat moon, and Aomine hums appreciatively before affectionately knocking their knees together.  

“We make a good team.”

 

\---

  

Having Tatsuya around every day is wonderful. He’s an early riser, and for once Kagami doesn’t have to worry about making everyone breakfast because he takes care of it. He’s actually a really good cook, and he knows about the massive appetites of the house and always makes enough for everyone.

It had taken a lot of begging and threatening on Kagami’s part, but he had finally convinced Tatsuya and Murasakibara to sleep in his room while they stayed. He knows his bed is too short for Murasakibara’s legs by a few inches, but it’s wide enough for the two of them, and he changes the sheets and pillow cases into fresh and cozy flannel.

As for himself, he had planned on taking the couch. But since Aomine seems to never want to go home anymore for sleeping, he ends up throwing a couple futons and quilts on the floor in the living room and calls it good. They sleep together, all tangled up in each other, and Kagami tends to wake up once he hears Tatsuya messing around in the kitchen. Usually he decides to let him take care of it and dozes for an extra hour or so, but sometimes he’ll extract himself from limbs to help Tatsuya make the food, if only so they can spend some more one-on-one time with each other.

On the mornings Kagami finds the will to drag himself out of bed, he likes listening to Tatsuya talk about the life he had only been able to speculate about for three years. Tatsuya tells him more about the classes he’s taking, his professors, about his neighbors and friends and Alex. He describes the apartment he shares with Murasakibara—a sunny place that’s walking distance from school, with a little courtyard full of aloe and sagebrush and tall scraggly bushes that bloom golden flowers, and a bench under a eucalyptus that Tatsuya likes to sit and highlight his readings. He says the apartment itself is small, but there are many windows that let in lots of sunlight. He tells Kagami about how he met Murasakibara—they had an orientation class together two and a half years ago, and somehow they had started talking (Tatsuya laughs, mentions that it had been no small feat) and gone out for coffee to chat, and somehow they had ended up where they were now.

Occasionally, if he's feeling particularly awake, Kagami will talk about his work, his coworkers, about Kuroko and Momoi and Kise and Aomine. He forces himself to explain how the two of them had come to meet—when he finally grits it out, Tatsuya laughs for a full five minutes, bent over at the waist, holding onto the kitchen counter for dear life and Aomine eventually lumbers through the archway, sleepily rubbing his eyes and asking what’s so funny. Kagami skips over the rough patches of their relationship, only mentioning what he thinks is strictly necessary. Sometimes they work in companionable silence, handing each other knives or onions or eggbeaters like they do this every day; like they have been for years.

There’s really nothing in town that Tatsuya hasn’t seen before, so there’s not much sightseeing. They go out to eat a few more times, play a couple more games at the park. They go shopping for basketball shoes once—Tatsuya says that his spark’s been lit again, and he plans on tracking down some pick-up games once he’s back in the States. They play video games, talk, go see a movie in theaters—Tatsuya and Murasakibara marvel that they can enjoy a film in their own language for once, and Kagami has to physically restrain Aomine as he aims popcorn at the back of other people’s heads.

A week flies by before Kagami can even blink.

Before he knows it, he’s here in this dreaded place, his stomach twisting anxiously, because he’d honestly rather be anywhere but here right now. Because there’s no other way to put it.

Airports suck.

There’s the atmospheric part, yes. He doesn’t like the overwhelming crowds (consisting mostly of irritable, sleep-deprived people), especially during busy times of the year. He doesn’t like the smell of cleaning supplies mixed with the overwhelming scent of one-too-many coffee shops. They’re either too hot or too cold, and he has to empty out his wallet just to buy a friggin’ bag of pretzels.

But mostly, it’s the sentiment connected to all of it that pisses him off. Years’ worth of saying goodbye—to his friends, the first time he moved to America and every time after that; and to his family, when he decided to move back to Japan—all those crappy emotions had eventually conditioned him to feel nauseous the moment he set foot in that godforsaken revolving door.

So he feels sick, completely loathing what’s to come within the next few minutes, and as he leans against the wall next to Tatsuya he’s acutely aware he looks as miserable as he feels. He uncrosses his arms, trying to get himself to relax, to try and not look upset but he knows it’s not working. They already checked in their luggage; now they’re just waiting for Murasakibara to get out of the bathroom before the two of them enter security to get their tickets checked and carry-on’s X-rayed.

Over the past week, he’s gotten used to having Tatsuya around. He’s gotten used to having his brother right there whenever he wants, and the thought of going back home tonight, sans two people, makes him want to hold onto Tatsuya’s knees like a toddler and beg him not to go. He knows that once he’s back home, once he’s not being choked by this miserable atmosphere he’ll be fine. The initial goodbye is always the hardest part. But that’s just it—it’s _hard,_ and he doesn’t want to deal with it.

Just as he’s adjusting his position on the wall— _yeah, this looks more casual, less tragic_ —Murasakibara lumbers back, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants. He’s dressed for comfort—his t-shirt is particularly ratty, and this hair is tied up in a little ponytail. He joins the two of them by the wall, and pointedly looks over his shoulder at the line for security. Kagami’s stomach drops.

Tatsuya lets out a long sigh. “Well, looks like this is it,” he says, brows furrowed as he chews anxiously on his lip. He pushes off from the wall and looks conflicted at his bag on the floor, then at Kagami who hasn’t moved a muscle, completely frozen in his anguish. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows there’s no words, no gestures he could say or do at this moment to accurately communicate the way he’s feeling right now. How could he possibly show to Tatsuya how grateful he is, how much this brief separation feels like it’s tearing him in two?

So he does what he can. He lets the stiffness of his body melt, brings Tatsuya to his chest in a bone-crushing hug, and Tatsuya presses his cheek against Kagami's shoulder, brings his arms around and holds him tight.

“I’ll miss you,” Kagami mumbles, embarrassed, his eyes burning. Tatsuya nods weakly, his hands moving in soothing circles on Kagami’s back.

“It’s just for a few months. It’ll be here before you know it,” he replies, his voice thick, and Kagami pulls in a deep breath before they separate. He blinks rapidly, trying to suck in the wetness he knows is shining in his eyes. He clears his throat, looks down at the weathered carpet.

“Just…just promise me you’ll let me know if I can help out with anything. Just call me. And I’m sure if you asked my mom, she’d be more than happy. And—“

“Taiga.” Tatsuya cuts him off with a watery smile, and Kagami falls silent. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. Truly, thank you. We’ve had a wonderful time.”

He looks over his shoulder at Murasakibara who nods, tucks a piece of loose hair behind his ear. “Mmm.”

It’s silent for another few seconds, and then Kagami laughs, the sound lacking any true humor. “This never gets any easier, does it?” He grimaces, and Tatsuya mimics his expression.

“No, it doesn’t. But just remember that it’s not forever.” He smiles sadly, and Kagami draws him in for one more quick hug before turning him around and shoving him towards the line. “Hurry up and get outta here. You guys need to eat something before you board,” he says roughly, scoops up Tatsuya’s carry-on and all but throws it at him. “If you miss your flight because of food I’ll kill you.”

Tatsuya laughs, slings his bag over his shoulder and Murasakibara cracks a lazy smile. “Bye, Kaga-chin. It’s been fun. See you in July.” He slips his arms through the loops of his backpack (jam-packed with snacks, plus one book that Tatsuya had insisted on) and turns to begin walking towards the line.

“Later, Mura,” Kagami calls after him, and Tatsuya turns from where he’s already half-way across the floor, says in loud voice that carries, “Remember, Taiga. Soon.”

 

\---

 

No matter how many times Kagami watches Aomine work, he’s never become immune. His mouth still dries up and his hands still become clammy because in that moment he feels so completely inadequate. Who was he to be dating someone like that? No one person had the right to possess that much raw sex appeal.  Some of it was doctored, yes. Aomine told him all about the backstage preparations, how all of them applied baby oil to their skin to give it that just-fucked glow, and they all painstakingly worked to keep their bodies in top shape. The seemingly heat-of-the-moment looks and rolls of the body where all meticulously practiced and choreographed. But even taking all of that out of consideration, Aomine had no business looking that good.

Since the last time Kagami’s been here a few weeks ago, Aomine’s changed his set up. Now he’s taken a leaf from Kise’s book and is playing the dirty cop, biceps bulging under a thin blue uniform shirt, black pants tighter than they have any right to be. But that’s understandable, seeing as they won’t be there long—as Kagami has this train of thought, Aomine all but tears them off his legs with an animalistic grin, and Kagami bites on his tongue to distract himself from the sudden discomfort of his lower half.

He’s tired from the long drive back into town. The airport was located on the other side of Tokyo, and it had taken more than two hours to get back. But he had promised he’d pick up Aomine before heading home, and he can’t say he dislikes coming here, not if he gets to see _this_. Sure, he’s seen what’s under those clothes lots of times now. But there was just _something—_ something about Aomine’s alluring onstage persona that was dripping with sensuality and confidence and was just too good to pass up.

So he’s sitting in the back nursing a simple glass of fruit juice, realizing how completely different things are from the first time he came here. He’s dating the headliner, and he can honestly say he couldn’t be happier. By now, the bouncer knows who he is, and he lets him inside without a word. He gets waved at by the bartenders, and no one makes a peep if he decides to sit down and watch for a while. But today he only made it in time for the ending of Hawk Eyes’ (Kagami recently learned the dancer’s name was Takao) and the beginning of the Black Panther’s. Aomine.

Everything about his performance is as breathtaking as it was the first time. His entrance results in a lot of screaming and thunderous applause. He works his magic for upwards of five minutes—Kagami gets to watch with an amused smile as Aomine selects a poor soul from the audience to traumatize. But as he watches Aomine handcuff the woman to her chair and begin a display so lewd it makes Kagami embarrassed on her behalf, he can see nothing but pure euphoria on her face.

At the end of the show, when he disappears behind the curtains again with a lust-soaked wink, there’s a collective wistful sigh from the audience.  Kagami drains the last of his drink, wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve and stands from his table. He heads back outside, walks to the alley that leads to the staff entrance. He picks a spot on the wall and leans against it as he waits. It only takes a few minutes—before long, Aomine’s opening the door and stepping out, back in his regular clothes, his hairline glistening and he’s out of breath, speckles of glitter on the bridge of his nose. He spots Kagami immediately, and his face splits into a happy grin as he jogs over.

“Thanks for picking me up,” he breathes, leans in and presses a soft kiss to Kagami’s lips.

Kagami smiles at him a little sleepily. “No problem. C’mon. I gotta work tomorrow.” As he says this he yawns, and Aomine pats him on the cheek piteously.

“Poor baby. Let’s go—I’ll tuck you in tonight nice and tight.” He takes his hand and begins leading him across the parking lot to Kagami’s ancient Subaru, their pace slow, arms swinging between them with each step.

“How do you make literally everything sound dirty?” Kagami asks, stifling another yawn. He reaches inside his jacket pocket with his free hand and fishes out his car keys before he unlocks the doors. Their hands separate.

“It’s a talent,” Aomine shrugs, throwing open the passenger side door and sliding in, Kagami walking around the front and getting in himself. He starts the car, the both of them buckling in, and Kagami messes with the control board for a moment to get the heat up as high at it’ll go. He warms his fingers for a moment in front of the vents, checks his mirrors and then he throws the car in reverse before heading out to the empty streets.

He glances at Aomine from the corner of his eyes, drums his fingers across the steering wheel anxiously. He’s looking out the window, expression carefully blank, and Kagami bites his lip. They still haven’t talked about what happened a few days ago—the phone call. He respected Aomine’s wish not to bring it up while Tatsuya and Murasakibara were visiting, but now that they’re gone the urge to ask is strong. He hadn’t been able to forget about it at all, not when every now and then he’d see Aomine’s face when he didn’t think anyone was looking, and he looked so miserable that Kagami was overcome with desperation, because _there was nothing he could do._

He's completely in the dark about this. He knows if the situation was reversed, Aomine would be pestering him senseless, would literally wring the information of out him. But he's not Aomine, and he's not even sure he'd be able to do anything for him, even if he knew. He's been trying to be more gentle lately, keeping his barbed comments to a bare minimum. At night he holds Aomine to himself a little tighter, hoping to comfort him through something he knows absolutely nothing about. It's been driving him crazy. He really wants to know, because in the very least then Aomine wouldn't have to be shouldering this burden all by himself. 

He’s startled out his thoughts by the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling—he had driven home on autopilot, and he’s surprised that they had made it the whole way in complete silence. Usually Aomine was one to talk the entire time—about his day, about the gardening center and about the club, his coworkers and nauseating manager.

Kagami unbuckles his seatbelt as well, but doesn’t move to leave the car. He really should ask about it now, while it’s fresh on his mind, while he still has the nerve. He turns to Aomine, the first words already on his tongue, but then Aomine is leaning over to the driver’s side and pulling him in for a kiss, catching Kagami by surprise.

“C’mere. We’ve never fucked in your car,” Aomine mumbles against his mouth, shifting onto his knees, his arms around Kagami’s neck.

“Daiki!” But he’s laughing, and he doesn’t protest as Aomine crawls over from the passenger seat, knees on either side of Kagami’s lap. He attacks Kagami’s neck with bruising kisses, reaches down and claws at the side of the carseat for a second and then all of a sudden they’re falling backwards, the seat jostling them as it lies nearly flat.

“Give a guy a little warning next time,” Kagami grunts, pulls Aomine’s shirt up over his stomach, his skin still slick with baby oil, presses hot palms against him and Aomine sighs.

“Sorry. But, you know me. I’m full of surprises,” he laughs into Kagami’s neck, bites down as he presses his hips forwards into Kagami’s lap.

Kagami trails his hands upwards, kneads his fingers into the small of Aomine’s back, and he looks up at the ceiling of the car, his head lolling to the side to give Aomine more room. He furrows his brows, staring at the gray upholstery. Wait, he had been about to ask him something.

Something important.

_What was it again...? Oh, right._

His hands grow still at Aomine’s waist, and he debates with himself for half a second before he can’t keep it in any longer. “So…are you gonna tell me who called you earlier this week?” he murmurs, hesitant, and Aomine freezes. He’s completely still in Kagami’s lap, his teeth still biting into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he then he releases him gently. He sighs, breath cool against the wetness now on Kagami’s neck, and he tips his head to lay his cheek on Kagami’s shoulder.

“Damn. You sure know how to kill a mood,” he grumbles, his fingers still stroking Kagami’s sides, up and down.

“Sorry. But you said you’d tell me once they left.”

Aomine sits up, palms pressed into Kagami’s chest for balance, and looks at him levelly. They hold eye contact for a long second, and then Aomine gives him a small smile, taps Kagami on the nose with his fingertip.

“Nope.”

Kagami blinks. “’Nope’?”

“Yeah, nope. As in I’m not gonna tell you.”

His mouth tips down in a frown. “Why not? You were really upset about it.”

Aomine shrugs. “Yeah, I was. But it doesn’t matter. Just forget about it.”

“But—“

“Taiga.” Aomine pecks Kagami’s temple, lets out another sigh. “It’s just…not a big deal. It doesn’t concern you, and if I have anything to say about it, it never will.” He smiles more softly, peppers a couple more kisses onto Kagami’s cheeks, his nose, his chin. “I’ll be fine.”

Kagami strokes his fingers through the short, dark hair at the back of Aomine’s head. “I…" he grimaces, wets his lips. "I _do_ worry about you, you know,” he says quietly, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Aomine stares at him for a moment, and then he smiles, the corners of his mouth stretching out wide. “And that’s more than enough for me.” He lowers himself until their chests are touching, rubs their noses together affectionately. “How did I get so lucky?” he coos, and Kagami rolls his eyes before he fists the hair between his fingers, pulling him down for a kiss. It ends up harder than he meant for it to, a little bit too wet and loud, and heat consequently blooms in his belly. When they pull apart, he feels dazed, and Aomine's looking down at him with dark eyes. He watches Aomine run his tongue very deliberately over his front teeth, and Kagami suppresses a shiver. 

“Hey, uh, are you maybe still in the mood…?” he asks, words a little thick, and as a means of reply Aomine rolls his hips.

“Aren’t I always?” he purrs, and after that nothing more needs to be said.

By the time Aomine gets his pants all the way back on and Kagami pulls up his zipper, the windows of his car are completely fogged over, and the collar of his shirt is soaked in sweat but he’s full with a relaxed buzz. Aomine’s limp against him, his chest still rising and falling faster than normal, and as Kagami tries to rouse him he groans.

“Ugh, no. I don’t wanna get up,” he whines, and Kagami reaches over and pulls the cardoor handle, kicks it open and the feeling of the icy air on sweaty skin has Aomine jolting up with a hiss. “Oh, you play dirty,” he growls, allows Kagami to raise the seat back to its regular position and he wiggles off of his lap to stumble to the curb. “Yikes,” he winces, arches his back, and it makes a popping sound. He looks over his shoulder with a sly grin. “Did you get bigger?”

“Not another word,” Kagami threatens, pulls the keys out of the ignition and steps outside, the wind drying the sweat and rising goosebumps on his arms as he quickly shoves them through the sleeves of his jacket again. He slams the door shut and locks the car, shoves the keys in his pocket and joins Aomine on the curb.

The two of them begin walking towards the house side-by-side, Kagami for once enjoying the coolness of the winter air. The sidewalk is crusted with the frost that had melted in the daytime, and he's careful with his footing, avoiding any particularly icy patches. When Aomine clears his throat, he glances to the side before quickly moving his eyes to watch his feet again. “Hey, Taiga. Uh, I have a totally random question for you,” he starts, his voice a little off, Kagami cocks an eyebrow at the pavement.

“Wow, that’s not at all suspicious,” he deadpans, and Aomine laughs awkwardly. “I’m serious! Just…” He takes a breath, and from the corner of his eye Kagami watches him pull his jacket more tightly around himself. “Did Himuro tell you anything about who they’re inviting? To the wedding?” His voice is hesitant, his phrasing careful, and at that Kagami stops, just in front of the stairs. Aomine stops as well, but doesn't look at him—his body is slightly twisted away, as if he's trying to hide something.

Kagami waits, silent, until Aomine takes a breath and glances at him, looking nervous. 

“No, he didn’t mention anything like that. Why?” he asks, his frown growing deeper as Aomine's eyes flick away as quickly as they came. Aomine shrugs, brushes past Kagami and starts up the porch steps. "No reason,” he says offhandedly.

This whole conversation is making Kagami's stomach churn with uneasiness, because he can't figure out where this even _came_ from. Why would Aomine care about the guest list? No matter what angle he thinks about it from, he can't see what the connection could be. Unless...did this have to do with that phone call? Was there someone Aomine wanted to avoid at the wedding?

“Daiki, wait.”

He follows him up he steps, reaches out and grabs onto his hand, and thoughtlessly Aomine’s fingers curl around his own. He’s reaching for the doorknob, eyes distant, seeming distracted. “Hmm?”

Kagami feels his face burn red, forces his voice to not sound brusque with embarrassment. “You know you can tell me anything,” he mumbles, rubs his thumb over the back of Aomine’s knuckles. "Anything." 

Aomine hesitates with his hand on the knob—then he looks over his shoulder and smiles.

“I know.”

 

 

 

_Six and a half months later_

_July_

 

Kagami had forgotten how hot Los Angeles was. By no means was Japan a cool place to be in the summer, but it was a wet heat, a sticky one. Here, the sun literally felt like it was frying you alive, mirages of heat waving off the sidewalks and the dry air was hard to suck into your lungs. It felt dusty, and if the smog over the city was anything to go by, there was a little bit more than just dust to worry about.

But he loved it. He could already feel the skin on the back of his neck browning, and he had missed the sound palm trees made when wind passed through the broad fronds. There was a certain level of boisterousness, the people unashamedly loud, and it was a different kind of lively than the energy back in Japan. He loved how busy everything was, how there was never a quiet moment here—there was always something going on. There was always an impromptu basketball game at the courts, always someone new to challenge. He met some of the most important people of his life here, learned the sport that had consumed him body and soul. As he walks, the sweater that he wore on the plane now tied around his waist, sunglasses perched on his nose and breathing in the air, smelling of real Mexican food and sunshine, it feels like coming home. 

Their little group tugs their suitcases across the parking lot towards the hotel, Aomine swearing every time one of the wheels catches on a piece of gravel and nearly tips over. Kuroko and Kise lag behind, absorbing everything there was to see from the parking lot, Kise shielding their fair skin from the sun with an umbrella. 

When they enter the air-conditioned lobby, they all breathe a sigh of relief. Kise retracts his umbrella, fans his sweaty face and tries to rearrange his bangs that are sticking awkwardly to his forehead. “It’s literal hell out there," he groans, grips the front of his shirt to try and air it out, eyes drooping with jet lag and overheating. Kuroko hands him a bottle of water, and he accepts it gratefully.

“I dunno. I kinda like it,” Aomine says, pulls his suitcase to a stop and stretches his arms over his head, arching his back with a pleased mewl. He looks around, nodding to himself slowly. “And this place is ritzy as fuck. I feel like a king or somethin’.”

 _Well, he's not wrong,_ Kagami thinks, looking around as well. The hotel that Tatsuya had booked for them  _is_ nice, nicer than he expected. Marbled floors, plush couches and chairs in a lounge area, a _crystal friggin' chandelier_ hanging from the ceiling. Scattered across the lobby are a multitude of potted palms, and he thinks he can hear the tinkling of a fountain but he can't figure out where it's coming from. 

"Can we swim in the pool? I think I'm dying," Kise moans, panting, then gasps and looks to Kuroko, anxious. "Do you think it's chlorinated? What if it dries my skin out?" 

"If that is indeed the case, then I will probably have to break up with you. I can't date someone with dry skin." He snatches the water bottle back from Kise, taking a long drink, and when he pulls the bottle from his lips he huffs out a little laugh at seeing Kise's absolutely horrified expression. "I'm teasing." 

Kagami hands Kuroko his suitcase, slides his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to rest on top of his head. “I’m gonna go check us in. You guys wait here and try not to pass out," he says, then heads towards the front desk. Not a second later he’s joined by Aomine, whose face and shoulders are already looking distinctly darker. Some people were just made to be in the sun, Kagami muses.

His eyes are bright and excited, like a kid at a carnival, and he stares at everyone around him for longer than what’s socially acceptable. Kagami gently nudges him with his shoulder. “Hey. Don’t be creepy.”

“When’s the rehearsal dinner thingy again?” he replies, staring down a little girl ogling him in her stroller. He pulls a silly face and she laughs delightedly.

“It’s tomorrow at six. We got here a day early so I figure we could sleep off the jetlag and sightsee if you guys wanted to.”

They reach one of the open desks up front, the man standing behind it typing on the computer, phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder and speaking rapidly. He holds up one finger pleadingly and Kagami nods—the man smiles with relief before returning his attention to his phone call.

Aomine sighs, slings an arm over Kagami’s shoulders. “That’s my man for you. Always planning ahead. I'm so proud.” He sniffs, wipes away an imaginary tear.

“What did I tell you about saying shit like that in public.”

"It's not like anyone can understand me!" he protests, laughing, then removes his arm so he can lean up against the counter, cocks his head and looks up at Kagami innocently. “That reminds me. You know, you’re gonna need to help me out around here. I’m shit at English,” he says, turning to watch the man speak what must be complete gibberish to him.

Kagami tilts his head thoughtfully. “At least this way you have a harder time of pissing people off.”

“I take personal offense to that!”

“That was the point, dickwad.”

He laughs again, shaking his head with mock hurt, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Kise is so toast. You just know he’s gonna be a friggin’ tomato tomorrow morning. Not all of you peasants can be blessed with all this beautiful melanin," he lovingly runs his fingers down his arm as he says this, and Kagami rolls his eyes.

"Whoa, big word. Where did you learn that?"

Aomine sticks his tongue out, neck twisted to look back where they came. "You packed sunscreen, right? Tetsu's even paler than— _shit.”_

Kagami turns to him, curious, and his stomach turns icy as he watches all the color in Aomine's face leave him at once, reducing his healthy glow to a sickly pallor. 

"Wha—"

And then Kagami’s wrist is being latched onto with an ironclad grip and he’s getting manhandled across the lobby, not even able to make a squeak in surprise before they come to a stop. He looks down, and he realizes that Aomine’s crouched behind a large potted plant, still gripping onto Kagami’s wrist and peeking around the prickly trunk with narrowed, furious eyes. His expression looks eerily familiar, and Kagami swallows dryly. He shakes his arm, trying to get Aomine to let go. He does, now using both his hands to cling to the edge of the pot so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

Kagami frowns. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Taiga, get down.” Aomine hisses, yanks on Kagami’s shorts leg, and Kagami can’t believe he’s actually doing this but he crouches next to his boyfriend behind the plant. They’re both too big for it to do much good—in fact, Kagami’s more or less crouching in plain sight, but he figures this way Aomine won’t throw a hissy fit and actually answer his questions.

“Who exactly are we hiding from?” Kagami asks, scoping out the small crowd of guests checking in and checking out, wheeling suitcases and heaving luggage around in a flurry of activity. Aomine acts as if he doesn’t hear him.

“I can’t fuckin’ _believe_ this. No, no, no, no!” he moans, rubs his hands up and down his face, peeks miserably through his fingers and suddenly gasps, causing Kagami to startle. “I don’t _believe it._ They _didn’t_. They fucking _brought her.”_

Kagami follows his line of sight, intent on figuring out this mystery himself since Aomine is clearly incapable of human conversation at the moment. He scours the lobby, examining each group of people. He zeros in on a little clump standing near the front doors, a few meters from Kuroko and Kise, and as soon as he sees them he understands.

He sees the woman first. Immediately, he understands that her blood runs through Aomine's veins. Probably a lot of it. Her skin is dark—darker than Aomine’s, a rich satiny brown, but it’s clear where he inherited most of his looks from. They have the same eyes with the same catlike slant, the same full lips. Except her cheekbones are more severe, and her hair is a mass of black, wild curls that cascade down her back, one side pinned up with a shiny clip. Kagami feels like he’s looking at some type of sculpture, because this woman is a work of art. She's sitting neatly on top of a suitcase, and her head is tilted up as she speaks to the man standing next to her. 

The man's features are drastically different, but no less beautiful. His skin is far lighter, no actual hair to speak of, and from where Kagami's staring at them, the only obvious inherited facial feature that he can see is the shape of the nose. He's also very tall, looking around Aomine and Kagami's height, maybe taller. He's gesturing with his hands, looking agitated, and he runs a hand up to run through hair that's no longer there. He leaves his hand on the back of his neck, looking tired. 

Between them, looking around with apparent disinterest, is a girl. Or maybe a woman? She has one of those faces that's making it impossible to determine whether she's in high school or her late twenties, but Kagami speculates by the severity of her neckline that it’s more likely that she’s well into adulthood.

“Those are your parents,” Kagami finally states, bewildered, and Aomine hisses beside him. Kagami turns to him, and he has to force himself not to shrink back. Because it’s the same as last time, all those months ago—it’s the same raw anger that that appeared the day Tatsuya showed up. But underneath that is the same hopelessness, the same desperation that leaves a lump heavy in Kagami’s throat.

Now there’s no question at all who had been on the phone that day. 

“Kise was right.” Aomine finally growls, and in one swift movement he stands. At that moment, from across the lobby, the girl turns. When their eyes meet, she grins.

“We’re in hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so i don't even have any excuses anymore this took pretty effing long so yeah my bad. IT WAS SO HARD TO WRITE IDK WHY and it's the longest chapter by like a bajillion words so much happens so much setting changes tOO MUCH EVERYTHING. I just really wanted more GOM and Seirin (+ Tatsuya) family time ok :') especially since next chapter really gets into the dirty dirty plot business  
> It turns out that Tatsuya is 2% fiancée and 98% mom. Murasakibara would be a kid eating crap out of the sandbox without him.  
> and sorry about the time skips???? like it's so weird that i have ONE in the whole story and then BAM TWO IN ONE CHAPTER. idk i guess i was feelin the whole "non-linear" thing this time  
> If anyone that reads this is actually from LA, please feel free to yell at me if I ever write something that you're just like "NO. NOPE. FALSE." I've only been there twice, and I'm trying to write from memory (hot, lots of traffic. did i miss anything?)
> 
> ALSO this is a public cry for help. Anyone that’s willing to help me come up with a better summary will be honored forever. Like seriously every time I see the current one I cringe it’s so bad PLEASE HELP IM SO BAD AT SUMMARIES OKAY THANK YOU.
> 
> my tumblr is smileyeeyore.tumblr.com !!! *leans casually against wall* yeah i guess i'd be okay with it if you talked to me. but, ya know. whatever.
> 
> EDIT: I JUST CHECKED THIS SUCKER IS 12505 WORDS HOLY FRIGGIN CRRAPPP


	14. sometimes it hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All you can do is be there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ookkayyyy yall just a heads up that here is where some homo/biphobia starts. so. now you've been warned if that's something you don't wanna have to read.

Aomine has never felt so truly murderous in his life.

Like, really. He actually kind of wants to kill them.  Okay, well, he probably wouldn’t _kill_ them. But if he had to choose between two sinking boats, his father on one and Kermit the Frog on the other, he’d save the fucking Muppet.

His hands are shaking, and it feels like he's actually seeing red. A part of him feels a little melodramatic, but seeing her there, sitting primly like she’s not here for the sole purpose of fucking _ruining everything_ , is making his vision blur. Even just off a plane from a nine hour flight, his mother is beautiful. For a brief moment, he thinks about how unfair that is— a woman like her should look like the goddamn Kraken. But knowing her, she probably smells like a field of lilies, her eyeliner winged in a way that made her look like a cat from Egyptian hieroglyphics; otherworldly and untouchable. The untouchable woman that kissed him on the forehead and tucked him into bed with a quiet, _I love you, sweet dreams._  She’s letting him lick the brownie batter off the spoon; she’s packing his bag on the first day of school, wiping away his tears and the blood trickling from his scraped knee.

She also sees him looking at a boy at the super market and nudges his side, shakes her head at him and makes his stomach sink with shame.

His father. That fucking cue ball. Someone he thought of as a stable, solid presence. Someone strong, someone smart and wily. In Aomine’s mind’s eye he sees it all—he’s teaching Aomine how to ride a bike, buying him his first basketball, checking for monsters in the closet. He’s telling Aomine the importance of a strong handshake, taking him to his games, cheering and telling everyone _that’s my son, that’s my boy!_

He’s also pointing to Satsuki in her new dress and whispering in Aomine’s ear, _isn’t she a pretty girl, Daiki?_

And then there’s Honoka. He’s pissed at her too, don’t get him wrong. But he also knows that it’s _probably_ not her fault. She’s not the evil mastermind behind this, that much is certain. He’s going to go ahead and take an educated guess in that Los Angeles, with all of its foretold splendor and the promise of irresistible sales at the shopping district was too good an opportunity for her to pass up. She’s always been into that kind of stuff—growing up, Satsuki always worshipped her for it, just a little. She’d sit with him and Satsuki at the park on hot days when they got out of school; she'd be that constant presence at New Year’s parties, that little whisper in his ear, _"Y_ _ou think he’s cute, don’t you? I_ _'m friends with his older brother. I can probably hook you two up. Interested?"_

She never knew things would turn out the way they did. But you'd think after everything the girl would have a little sympathy, not add salt to the wound. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and feels his back go stiff; he turns, aware of the way he’s breathing like he just sprinted around the block.

_Stop._

The way Kagami’s looking at him pisses him off—like he’s a china plate, tipping precariously on the edge. He shrugs his hand off, ignores the flash of hurt that flits across his expression before it settles back into sad desperation. He _hates_ that face— _hates_ that it’s being made on his behalf, hates that this is even happening at all, hates that Kagami is now inexplicably involved in this complete crap when he never _asked_ for this baggage.

He makes eye contact with Honoka again, and he watches as she grins (always with that _grin,_ making her look like a fucking _demon)_ , as she taps his mother on the shoulder to begin gesturing in their direction.  

_Breathe in, breathe out. They can’t do anything anymore._

“Taiga, go check us in. I’ll deal with this,” he snarls, and next he feels warm fingers curling around his wrist; Kagami tugs on it, like he’s trying to pull him away.

“Daiki—“

“Just—!” He rips his hand back. “Just don’t, Taiga. Please.”

_Please, please, please. I won’t let them take you from me. This can’t happen again._

There’s a brief moment of hesitation; Aomine half-expects to feel a hand at his arm again, pulling on his waist, but to his relief there is none. “Fine,” Kagami says quietly. He doesn’t say another word before he turns on his heel and begins walking across the lobby to the front desk. Aomine takes a moment to look at his broad back as he leaves, tries to gather courage from the strong line of his shoulders.  

And then he turns, and starts walking.

His mother watches him approach with that pristine smile. She looks pleased, and relieved, and to his sick satisfaction she even looks a little tired. She stands from her perch on the suitcase and takes several steps forward to meet him, spreads her arms like she’s going to envelop him in them. He doesn’t step close enough to give her the opportunity, and he watches as her smile falters just slightly, as she drops her arms to let them hang at her sides.

“Daiki. I’m so happy to see you,” she says, her voice deep and husky, just like he remembers. When he blinks he lets his eyes stay closed for half a second longer, just to let himself pretend he’s five years old again; that all is right in the world and his mother still loves him unconditionally. But he’s not five years old anymore, and he opens his eyes back to reality.

She gestures to his father. “We were just—“

“Don’t talk to me,” Aomine cuts her off, expression blank, and he redirects his attention to look at the girl smirking up at him. She coughs to hide a laugh, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck bristle. He struggles to control his breathing.

“What’re _you_ doing here?” he growls to her, and she smiles up at him.

“What do you think?” she asks, looking for all the world like she isn’t doing anything wrong.

His eyes narrow. “Shopping.”

She raises her arm—points her index finger at him, her thumb pushing down an imaginary safety.  _Bang._  “Bingo.”

He bares his teeth at her in resemblance of a smile. She doesn’t even flinch—her smile just grows wider, like she’s watching a kitten trying to scare something much bigger than itself, and finding the whole situation very amusing.

“You do realize that coming here to play the spoiled princess is making my life a hell of a lot harder, right?”

She laughs, so fucking loud and bubbly and annoying. He hates that she’s laughing at _him—_ it makes him feel too small in his grown body.   

“For the sake of true fashion, sacrifices must be made,” she purrs, brushing her chin-length hair behind her ear, revealing large hoop earrings; Aomine briefly wonders if they’re new.

His father finally seems to remember he has a mouth because then he’s there, standing beside his mother, his frown severe and warning lines etched in to his face. The skin is more weathered than it used to, less vibrant. But it still feels to Aomine like he’s about to put his son in the corner for time-out, like he’s once again trying to forcefully rip away a part of what makes Aomine himself.

“Daiki, I expect you to treat your mother and Honoka with respect. They—“

“Dad, shut up,” he snaps, a foreign thrill running up his spine. He feels ashamed that this brief moment of rebellion is making him feel so liberated, like he’s actually made a difference by being marginally rude to his father. But by the looks of it, this act of insurgence is enough for his parents; his father’s face turns beet red with anger, a vein bulging in his forehead, and his mother all but gasps. “Daiki, don’t you dare speak to your father that way. We just—“

“You know what? You guys lost that fuckin’ privilege a long time ago. I’m gonna speak to you the way I want,” Aomine continues, keeping his voice breezy even as blood pounds through his veins, half raw anger and half blind terror. He pictures Kagami’s face in his mind’s eye, thinks of how he throws his head back when he laughs. It’s enough to keep going.  “And I only have one thing to say to you. So you better fuckin’ listen good.” He takes a deep breath, tries not to focus too closely on his parent’s expressions, knowing they weren’t going to be pretty. He lowers his voice dangerously anyways. “Stay away from me. Don’t talk to me. And if you so much as _look_ at him _,_ I’m not gonna be nice about it anymore.”

With that, he finally turns around, waves his hand behind him lazily.

“That’s all I had to say. Enjoy the wedding.”

 

\---

 

“Kagamicchi! Come and play with us!”

Kise, like a wilted flower suddenly being drenched by the pure waters of life, has rebounded remarkably quick back to his happy and carefree self. He and Kuroko are bobbing in the deep end of the pool, Kuroko stuck to Kise’s back, his arms hanging over his shoulders lazily, legs wrapped around his hips. Kise seems to be easily keeping the two of them afloat, his legs moving in alternating circles under the water. He has somehow acquired a beach ball and several pool noodles, and has been challenging Kagami to duel with him for the past ten minutes. 

And while normally Kagami would be all for accepting that challenge and having explicit permission to gore Kise with a pool noodle, he’s just not in the mood. Instead he idly flicks the water with his thumb and middle finger, seeing how far he can get the splashes. He knows it’s stupid, but he still doesn’t feel completely comfortable being in water where he can’t touch the bottom. So he’s been leisurely floating on his back in the shallow end, chasing after the shadows that fall on the water as the day passes.

_I wonder where Daiki is._

Kagami leans his head back on the slick tile of the poolside, reaches up and combs back his wet bangs. The water is an effective heat suppressant, and he’s been sitting there so long his toes and fingers have long since pruned. He hasn’t seen Aomine once in the past two hours.

Seeing him that way…wasn’t something Kagami had ever expected to see. It was very nearly scary, seeing him like he was out of control of himself, like his anger had flipped a switch and all of a sudden he was feral, looking for blood.

Even as Kagami was at the front desk checking them in like Aomine had asked ( _told_ him, _demanded_ of him, _shook off his hand—)_ he hadn’t been able to resist looking back to make sure he wasn’t going to have to break up a fistfight between Aomine and a tiny woman no bigger than Riko. He hadn’t been able to hear the exact conversation—he had seen the tenseness of Aomine’s posture, his gestures, and the distant angry resonance of his voice. Aomine’s parents’ expressions had fluctuated between resigned exhaustion and indignant anger—Kagami had not once seen the girl’s face faze from anything other than simple amusement.

Kise and Kuroko had joined him at the counter several moments after Aomine had stomped off, Kise pressing a water bottle to his forehead as he followed Kagami’s line of sight back towards the front doors. “Ah, looks like the Aomines are here,” he had said, his brows furrowed slightly. He squinted. “And, isn’t that…?”

Kuroko nodded. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Yikes,” Kise whistled lowly. “Talk about drama. Now all we need is one of Himuro-kun’s old boyfriends storming up the aisle and we’d have a soap opera on our hands.”

Just then the girl smiling up at Aomine had begun to laugh, a high delighted sound that echoed around the cavernous room. Kagami had narrowed his eyes as he watched Aomine’s fingers clench into fists. He waited for them to slowly uncurl again before opening his mouth, the obvious question poised on his lips, and then Kuroko had cut him off before he could begin.

“I’m sure Aomine-kun will inform you of all necessary information later. Did you acquire the room keys?”

Kagami had sighed. Honestly, at this point he was almost used to being in the dark about everything. Whether it was the Generation of Miracles or the past of his own boyfriend, he had only the faintest clue of where along the line their lives intertwined, where they stowed their secrets within each other.

Rationally, he had already known that Aomine was hiding something from him—now that he knows what it is, nothing’s really changed. 

Except it feels like it has.

_Does he not trust me enough?_

That was the predominant thought that swirled around Kagami’s head, making the area behind his eyes ache as he looked upon these three strangers who spelled trouble to apparently everyone except him. 

He had thought that he meant more than this. A six solid months of dating, nearly a whole year of friendship—apparently, it wasn’t enough to warrant even a sliver of insight into Aomine’s life before he left home. There had been innumerable “I love you’s” cooed from Aomine’s mouth, long months of getting to know each other emotionally, intimately; learning to move around each other in a way that felt fluid and easy, in a way that made Kagami’s old life on his own seem awkward and uneven.

But even side-splitting laughter and tender good-night kisses weren’t enough for Aomine to open up and share this part of his life with him.

_“It doesn’t concern you. And if I have anything to say about it, it never will.”_

Those damned words have carved themselves into Kagami’s brain, coming back to dangle themselves in front of him tauntingly. He feels bitter, like Aomine should have known better. _Of course_ Kagami was involved—it was delusional to think otherwise. They were too intertwined, too close, too synchronized for him to be anything but. They were a pair now, two birds of a single feather. By default, anything involving Aomine, Kagami automatically needed to be included into the equation. And he feels wronged because _Aomine should have known that._ He shouldn’t have _hidden_ this, kept the lid tightly closed on this secret until it had exploded in his face.

And it stings. More than it should, but Kagami can’t help the way he feels.

Trying to shove down the sour emotion climbing its way up his throat, he had swiped the key cards the desk clerk had handed to him off the counter, dropped them into Kuroko’s waiting palms. “Yeah. Here.”

“Excellent. Let’s go, Kise-kun. I think our swim trunks are in your suitcase.”

Kise had turned away from the angry conversation going on behind them like it wasn’t happening at all. “Praise be! I’m melting, melting, melting…” He had then plucked one of the card copies from Kuroko, took the first few steps towards the elevator.

“Are you coming, Kagamicchi?” he had asked over his shoulder, Kuroko trailing behind him, his eyes glued to the nearby advertisement for deluxe vanilla milkshakes being served at the poolside bar.

Kagami had shook his head nervously, his hands jittery, leaving the counter to make room for the next guest in line. “I think I should wait for—“

“Taiga.”

Surprised, Kagami’s head had snapped up. Aomine had appeared again out of nowhere, and a brief once-over by Kagami had assured him that he was still in one piece. A closer look at his face told another story—he looked world-weary, his eyes deadened and out-of-focus.

His gaze then darted beyond Aomine’s shoulder—they had all been staring directly at him, Aomine’s parents watching him indifferently, the girl’s mouth curled like she was the cat that caught the canary.

Kagami ignored them. He took a tentative step towards Aomine, unsure about what he should say. “Uh…”

Aomine had held up his cell phone. “Satsuki texted me. I’m gonna go see what she wants.”

“Ah…” Kagami swallowed. “Y-you know what room she’s in?”

Aomine’s face had been carefully blank, no visible tension in his muscles, no… _nothing._

_You’re scaring me._

Aomine had nodded. “Yeah. Can you take up my suitcase? I’ll meet up with you guys later.” He set his bag next to Kagami’s, headed towards the pair of elevators on the opposite side of the lobby. He had waved over his shoulder, not looking back. “Thanks.”

And that had been that. Which left Kagami to ruminate in his thoughts, staring blankly at the powder blue sky above the courtyard, listening to Kise whisper sweet nothings into Kuroko’s ear (it really wasn’t much of a whisper).

Now that he’s had some time alone to think, he realizes that it’s not wholly Aomine’s fault that he chose to not tell Kagami about his parents. Should he have? Yes - and it still pisses Kagami off that it'd been kept from him. However, it was obviously a very tender subject, and even if Kagami doesn’t know all the details he can put two and two together—they probably weren’t the type of people Aomine was jumping to show off.

That being said, Kagami had also come to another conclusion: Aomine would not be spending another day carrying this burden all by himself. Of that much he was certain. 

Kagami gets his legs under himself and heaves himself upwards; water cascades in rivulets down his chest, his swim trunks sticking to his skin awkwardly in places. He glances over at the deep end—Kuroko is still on Kise’s back, and he’s now trying to weave wet blond chunks into little braids as Kise chatters about some movie he’s been dying to see.

“I’m gonna head in now!” Kagami calls. Kuroko looks over at him, gives a slight nod.  “Alright. We’ll leave shortly as well.”

Kagami wades over to the short pool steps and climbs up, walks over to his towel lying on one of the lounge chairs. He towels off, just enough so that water isn’t dripping down his neck from his hair or down his legs to puddle at his feet.

Even though it’s still a hellish temperature, his wet skin makes the air conditioner of the hotel feel like he’s just stepped out into January chill after a dip in the Pacific - something he can say from experience. He scurries as fast as possible to the elevator, trying to think of the hot shower waiting for him and brainstorming the best possible way to track down his boyfriend. He guesses a good start would be Momoi - it's where he said he'd be, and it's not a stretch to say that he's been with her the past two hours. If he's not, then he'll try the basketball courts at the park down the street, and if not there, then, well...he think their taxi had passed a decent-sized X-rated movie store on the way. Not the ideal hideaway, but he wouldn't put it past Aomine to resort to private time with his coveted idols in times of dire stress. 

He scrambles to flash his key card to his door; it unlocks with a small _beep,_ and he steps across the threshold. A little part of him dies inside when he sees that the bathroom door’s closed and he can hear the telltale sounds of a shower - as he stares in icy dismay at the light shining from underneath the door, he hears a loud, echoing thud from inside, followed by a colorful curse word - suggesting a rogue shampoo bottle meeting the shower floor and possibly an unfortunate toe.

But this also means that this makes his task of tracking down Aomine a lot easier - it also means that he won't have to go snooping around every perverted shop within a five mile radius. So he plops himself down on the queen-sized bed and flicks on the TV as he waits, freezing feet be damned. 

Before long, after about five minutes, the shower shuts off. Kagami lets out a slow breath, trying to keep himself calm and bracing himself for the uncomfortable conversation rapidly approaching. Another few deep breaths and the door opens, Aomine stepping out, steam floating off his skin with a towel around his waist. The moment he realizes he's not alone, he freezes. Kagami quickly notes that he looks a lot better than he did a few hours ago; his eyes aren’t so tired anymore, his face more animated even though his expression could best be described as deer-in-the-headlights. His time spent with Momoi must have done him some good.  

Kagami pats the spot on the bed next to him, trying to ignore the way goosebumps are cropping up over every square inch of his bare skin. “Hey. Sit here for a sec.”

Aomine eyes him warily for a moment, unmoving. “Don’t wanna.”

Kagami glowers. “You can’t tell me it doesn’t matter anymore. They’re here, and it bothers you. So I want you to tell me why.”

_Don't make this more difficult than it has to be._

There’s a brief moment where Kagami half-expects Aomine to go bolting out the door completely in the nude, but he just stares contemplatively at Kagami for another second before sighing, walks over to his open luggage and pulls out a clean pair of briefs. He slips them on before he sits down on the floor across from the bed and leans his back against the dresser.  

“What, you never fought with your parents?” he grumbles, pulling his knees loosely to his chest, resting his elbows on top.

Kagami shakes his head. “Of course I did. But this is different, and you know it.” He pauses, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, looking down at Aomine appraisingly. It doesn’t feel right, being above him like this – it makes Aomine look too small, too vulnerable. He slides off the bed, settling down on the floor as well. He crosses his legs. “You said that you didn’t get along with them.”

Aomine frowns. “When the hell did I say that?”

“Christmas.”

He’s staring off into space blankly, so Kagami elaborates: “Back in December I asked why you didn’t go home with Momoi for Christmas, and you said that you never got along well with your folks.”

Aomine grimaces. “Me and my big mouth.”

“So how come? They looked happy to see you.”

“And Cruella de Ville looked happy to see all those little puppies, didn’t she?” Aomine spits.

Kagami doesn’t say anything, just watches him expectantly, and Aomine sighs again. “There any rum in the mini fridge?”

“No," Kagami says, voice flat and eyes glaring.

“Just…like a beer or something? Hard lemonade? C’mon man, throw me a bone here.”

“No way in hell are you getting drunk.”

“I wouldn’t get drunk on hard lemonade! What am I, a middle school girl?” Aomine moans. “Can we just forget about it? We can pretend they’re not here.”

Kagami leans forward, his lip curling. “Fuck that,” he hisses. “Like it or not, you’re not dealing with this on your own anymore. So just fucking _tell_ me.”

Aomine’s quiet for a second - just looking at him with narrowed, calculating eyes. Kagami glares back fiercely, as if daring Aomine to try and wriggle his way out again. Finally, Aomine huffs, reaches up to rub his eyes wearily. “Fine. Guess you gotta know some background first.” He drops his hands, looks up at the corner of the room, thinks for second. “Okay, so. High school.”

Kagami leans back again, the tension draining out of him. He nods. “Okay, high school.”

“In high school, I was just as hot as I am now. Everybody wanted a piece of this. You follow?”

Kagami half-smiles. “Sure.”

“And I was very…uh, _promiscuous_? Yeah, I think that was the word Satsuki used. Just…I wasn’t too picky, I guess. If someone was hot, and they wanted to hook up, I probably wasn’t gonna say no.” He shrugs. “Boy, girl, didn’t matter.”

Kagami’s smile broadens. “Sounds familiar.”

Aomine cocks a brow before leaning forward and poking Kagami in the chest with his index finger. “Watch the sass. Anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself. My parents - I think they always kinda knew about me. Like even when I was a little kid, I’d stare at all the pretty girls _and_ boys at school and stuff. Well, I’m sure you don’t need me to explain that. You get it.” Kagami nods. “And they never really talked to me about it. I think they told themselves that I’d grow out of it or some shit like that. And I didn’t.” He takes a deep breath. “So, long story short, all the bullshit started when my parents walked in on me fucking one of the guys from the second-string. Do you see where this is going?”

Kagami winces. “Unfortunately.”

“Right. So. That wasn’t something they were too crazy about. It didn’t matter that I told them I was into chicks too, they just focused on the whole guy on guy thing and…latched on. Wouldn’t give it up. Thought that they could help me get over it.

“Mostly it was just them trying to force a lot of girls on me. Like daughters of family friends, that kind of thing. And I didn’t really care, because really, it was no skin off my nose if they wanted to keep handing me hot chicks that wanted to do it. I was still with guys, but I was more secretive about it.”

Aomine hesitates then, seems to shrink into himself before saying in a quieter voice, “And then during my third year of high school I got my first boyfriend."

Immediately it feels like all heat gets sucked out of the room. Because Kagami can see the direction this story is headed, and with that one sentence it was like hammering the last nail into the metaphorical coffin.

Aomine shrugs, smiling a little. “And I really, really liked him. I dunno, I think that was the first time I actually felt that way about somebody,” he says, and while Kagami can tell that Aomine is trying to keep the mood light, pretending like he’s not really all that bothered by what he’s saying it's the exact opposite. He’s clenching his fists close to his chest, and his nose is slightly wrinkled, his eyes blinking more than they should be.

He swallows, too thickly, and it takes him a moment to get his next words out. “I’m not…I’m not gonna go into detail about him. But my parents found out. And…” he bites his lip, closes his eyes. “And so basically they told me that if we didn’t break up, they were gonna kick me out. Leave me on my own. Not help pay for university or anything. Pretend I wasn't even theirs anymore.”

Kagami sucks in a harsh breath, stunned. Aomine opens his eyes, and Kagami’s heart breaks when he sees that they’re glistening, moisture pooling in the corners. In half a second Kagami finds himself across the floor at Aomine’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist, and Aomine drops his head to rest it on Kagami’s shoulder. He wipes his eyes. “And it’s so fucking stupid, 'cause it’s not like they have anything to prove. We’re not rich or anything. My dad’s a bank teller. Mom stays at home. No claim to fame. No reason to be so…so fucking _ashamed_ of me.”

He pauses, drags his wrist across his eyes again, and sniffs. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

Kagami shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry.”

Aomine nods, drops his hand and his fingers curl underneath Kagami’s knee, like he’s using him as an anchor. “And after I graduated high school, I honestly wanted nothing more than to piss them off as much as possible.” He laughs bitterly. “And what better way to do that than to become a fucking stripper and not go to university?”

Kagami glances down with surprise. “Was there anything else that you wanted to do?”

Aomine lifts his head to look at him; his eyebrows quirk, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “You mean, did I actually dream of being a stripper when I was growing up? Fuck no.” He pauses, thinks for a second. “I guess…I dunno. I always assumed that I’d figure out what I wanted to do in university. But that never happened, so.” He shrugs.  “Anyways, they’re never gonna change their minds about me. So I’m not gonna bother trying.”

Kagami fiddles with his fingers. “Maybe if you explained - “

“What, explain that I’m in a _committed relationship_ so they can start taking my _bisexuality_ seriously?” Aomine laughs, runs a hand through his short hair. “Shit, Taiga. You think I haven’t tried? They sure as hell know about you.”

Kagami hesitates. “…they do?”

Another hollow laugh. “Yeah. Isn’t that just…it’s just so fucked up, right?” A humorless grin.  “I told them about you _in January._ They had a whole six months to get used to the idea that I’m not interested in whoever they wanna throw at me, cuz I’m fucking _happy._  With _you.”_  His jaw locks, and all of a sudden the anger is back. He slams his fist down on the floor. _“_ And now they pull this fucking _shit_ out of _nowhere_!”

He drops his head to rest on Kagami’s shoulder again, his temper already burned out. Kagami purses his lips. “So, that girl…”

He sighs. “Yeah. Honoka’s their favorite, so this isn’t the first time they’ve tried to play matchmaker with her.”

“Oh.” Kagami swallows. “Why are they _here,_ though?”

Aomine snorts. “They’ve been friends of Mura’s parents since I was a kid. Barely ever talked to him though - dude’s gayer than I am. Fuck if I know how they got an invitation. Or how they managed to get one for Honoka.”

Kagami mulls that over - Aomine's parents must be pretty serious and insistent for them to make such a grand effort. From the sounds of it, they held no real relationship to either of the grooms themselves. Which leaves the only explanation very obvious, even if the thought alone is enough to make Kagami's skin crawl: they had flown nearly six thousand miles purely for the sole purpose of intercepting their son and putting this messed-up plan into action. 

The weight suddenly leaves Kagami's shoulder, and he looks up in surprise as Aomine heaves himself from the floor only to flop down face-first onto the bed. He squirms around for a second. “Ugh, jetlag creeped up on me good.”

Kagami isn’t oblivious to the not-so-subtle change of topic, but he’s heard what he needs for now - any more talking is going to have to wait until Aomine’s eyes aren’t red-rimmed and he’s not clearly exhausted. Maybe at the rehearsal tomorrow he’ll have time to ask Momoi her opinion on what he should do.

Mostly dry now, he stands as well, begins picking out some clothes to change into. “You can sleep. I’ll go pick up dinner. What d’you feel like?”

Aomine looks up at him from his starfish position, worshipful. His eyes are slightly swollen. “You’re the local. Get me something _you_ like," he says, lifting himself again with apparent effort to crawl the top of the bed and begin ripping back the tightly-tucked sheets. He stuffs his face in the rightmost pillow, sniffling quietly, and Kagami pretends not to hear him. 

He tugs a t-shirt over his head, considers the spread of khaki shorts in his suitcase before he decides his swim trunks are now dry enough to go walking around the city in. The fluorescent pattern of palm trees wasn't exactly easy on the eyes, but Momoi wasn't here right now to berate him. Plus they had pockets. “Okay. I’ll be back soon,” he says, pats himself down to check for his phone and keys. He's thinking Mexican is a good option - it was one of the foods that Japan had issues with replicating, and if the smell wafting in from the taxi windows were anything to go by, the food here was still pretty killer. He's just slipping his feet into his sandals when there's a knock at the door - he jumps a little, Aomine grunting wordlessly somewhere behind him. He looks at it for a moment blankly before realizing he should probably open it - and then the one polite knock is suddenly followed by a mass of pounding and Kagami turns just in time to see Aomine bury his face further into the bedding. “ _Taiga,”_ he whines, covering his ears with his hands. 

Kagami rolls his eyes. “Chill, I’m getting it. Kise probably can't get his door open.”

He slips on the other sandal, grabs his sunglasses off the dresser before stalking to the door. He curls his lip, hesitating at the handle even as the deafening pounding continues. Kise and Kuroko would want food too, right? Does he really have to pay for four people? The next pound in the door startles him - it was at least three times as loud, causing a deep reverberation through the door handle - something that couldn't be anything other than a solid kick. Kagami scowls, regretting his decision to turn down Kise's offer of pool noodle dueling. He would really love nothing more than to repeatedly wack him across the head with a piece of neon green foam right now. 

But it’s not Kise. When he opens the door he’s not met with impatient golden eyes like he expects - or any eyes at all. What he gets is a clear view of the wall of the opposite side of the hallway. Did he just get ding-dong-ditched? Should he be chasing some punk-ass kid down the hallway? Did _Kise_ ding-dong-ditch him? An invisible source clears their throat, and he looks down—black hair, impeccably done eyebrows, and then…

“Oh,” he says dumbly.

“' _Oh’,_ yourself.” She smirks. “You gonna invite me in?”

Speak of the devil. It’s that girl—woman? _Honoka_. All of a sudden his mouth is as dry as a desert, his hands simultaneously starting to sweat with nerves. Up close she really is quite beautiful; the softest-looking skin Kagami has ever seen, hauntingly dark eyes, high cheekbones. She's looking up at him expectantly, her head tilted, the unattractive hall lighting catching on the planes of her face in a way that's near ghostly. He’s so dumbstruck that he’s having trouble thinking of how to reply. She wants to be invited in…into the hotel room? Why would she want to? They don't even know each other.

The gears of his brain that are slowly clicking along finally grind to a halt, and he swallows nervously. She's here to see _Aomine_. That’s the only explanation for her sudden visit. He blinks, his lips parting, and she raises a single arched brow, her expression beginning to show the impatience that she took out on the door. But that conversation they just had…and what he saw earlier in the lobby. Aomine had yelled at her; she was on the side of his parents - that means that he doesn't like her, right? So he wouldn’t want her here. But what if she wasn't looking for a fight? Was this a peace offering? Kagami can’t make up his mind, so he eloquently says, “Uh.”

She grins up at him, sneakily takes a slow step forward, her chin mere inches from his chest. “C’mon, please? Just let me talk to you for a couple minutes. Invite me in.”

Kagami’s about to reply, probably with another “uh”, but then suddenly he hears a loud thump behind him, Aomine’s angry voice shouting as he comes barreling across the room. “Only _vampires_ ask that fake polite shit!” he yells, and then he’s shoving Kagami to the side and all but begins snarling in the girl’s face. “What did I fuckin’ _tell_ you! I don’t want you—“

She smacks her palm directly over his mouth; he recoils like he’d been burned, and she holds her hands up in surrender. “Cool it. I come in peace. I wanted to meet your boyfriend.” She sighs like she's being inconvenienced, Kagami watching her awkwardly from over Aomine’s shoulder. He stumbles back as Honoka bodily shoves Aomine out of her way and barges into the room - without an invitation, so apparently  _not_ a vampire. 

Kagami opens his mouth in a silent protest; Aomine similarly makes a frustrated noise but makes no actual move to kick her out. He actually puts space in between them, crosses his arms across his chest as a buffer, and her face carries a certain smugness to it that Kagami finds vaguely irritating. He follows Aomine's lead and takes a step back as she eyes him, her smile clearly appreciative, and he can’t stop the blush from blooming on his cheeks.

“This him?” she asks, tongue dragging across her upper lip, and Aomine growls behind her.

“ _Yes._ Now if you’re done, get the fuck out.”

She seems to ponder this for a moment, head cocked to the side. Finally, she shakes her head. “Mmm, nope. You missed my birthday party. I don’t owe you anything." She examines her nails, mouth turned down irritably. "Thirty is a big deal, you know. I needed emotional support.”

Kagami can’t stop the noise he makes at that—she frowns at him and he gapes. “You’re _thirty_?”

So she's quite a bit older than even his oldest estimations. That means that there was at least a five year age gap in between her and Aomine - he remembers Aomine mentioning that his parents started their matchmaking attempts when he was still in high school. And while five years isn't that big of a difference  _now,_ Kagami has difficultly swallowing the thought of someone trying to push a twenty-one year old woman on a sixteen year old boy. The more he learns, the more he feels sick to his stomach. 

Honoka scowls. “Yeah, yeah. I know, I look like I’m fuckin’ twelve, you don’t gotta tell me. It’s the tits, right?” She glares down at herself sourly.

“No, no! I mean. Uh. I mean that you look good. Really, um. Young. Like, you have nice skin,” he flounders, his ears burning hot and he wants to bury himself in a hole. She blinks up at him, and he’s about to apologize, but then she squeals and his eyes go wide. She latches her fingers onto his upper arm and squeezes; he reflexively tries to pull away but she's stronger than she looks. Her nails dig into his skin. “Oh, you’re such a charmer!” she laughs, bringing her face closer to his, and he rears his head back as far as it will go without physically taking a step back.

She hums. “Dai, he’s _cute_. How did you manage to land him?”

_Don't blush._

Too late. 

Aomine grunts. “Don’t even think of trying anything on him, Honoka. Or else I’ll shave your head in your sleep.”

She glowers at him. “Just go ahead and try it. It’ll be the last thing you _ever_ do.”

As she's distracted, Kagami delicately removes his arm from her grip, giving the pinched skin a quick rub-down before he looks between them, confused. He had assumed that Aomine didn’t like this woman—what with the situation between her and his parents, and the way he had spoken about her earlier. But this conversation feels too familiar to be truly hostile—if anything, it reminds Kagami of bickering siblings. He points to both of them. “Are you guys friends?”

“ _No,”_ they snarl simultaneously. Honoka looks truly offended by the notion, and Aomine lets out a slow breath, seeming to force himself to relax. “She’s Satsuki’s cousin. She’s been around since before I was born.” He turns his head to the side and adds quietly, “Probably since before dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, for the sake of your absolutely _adorable_ boyfriend,” Honoka hisses.

“Like I care if you heard me or not! You’re fuckin’ old!”

She brandishes her long nails at him like claws. “Wanna say that again?”

“Jesus. Knock it off, the both of you,” Kagami groans, feeling a headache coming on. There was a reason he wasn't planning on raising any kids for at least another decade. “Do I need to leave? I think you two need to have like…a heart-to-heart or something.”

Aomine steps forward. “Taiga, _stay._ Honoka’s leaving.”

She curls her lip up at him. “Oh? Am I?”

Kagami shakes his head, checks his pockets once more and then heads towards the door. He rests his hand on the handle. “I think you should stay. I was just about to go and get some food. What do you want?” He speaks to her directly, and there’s a flash of surprise across her face for half a second before she schools it back into an irritated scowl. “Pizza. With lots of meat. And get some beer too.”

Aomine rounds on her. “Don’t boss him around!”

“He fuckin’ _asked_ me, asswipe!”

Kagami opens the door. “No, pizza sounds good. I’ll be back within the hour,” he says, sees Aomine’s disbelieving look but closes the door before he has a chance to argue.

_So much for Mexican..._

 

 

\---

 

Aomine stares at her.

He feels like he’s been drop-kicked back though time—he’s still in high school, and Honoka’s visiting from university. They’re sitting awkwardly together in the Aomine family’s living room, knowing exactly why his parents conveniently decided they need to go shopping together at that very moment, leaving the two of them alone. At that point her hair was still long, almost all the way down to her ass - she got to flick it around at people, peer over her shoulder through a curtain of silky black. The times that they ended up forced in each other's company sometimes ended up with him being blinded as long strands fell over his eyes, frantically trying to keep up during her oh-so-gracious offers of teaching him how to kiss.

Even during those days he was under no misconception that she felt anything for him - and the feeling was mutual. The way he felt about her was contradictory; he was bitter at the same time he was fond. She was a body to touch when he was desperate, when all he wanted was to feel good for a few minutes. When he was falling apart, he wanted someone who never fell for his too-tough-to-care facade. She had seem him grow up, through all the awkward stages, and was never under the illusion that he was anything other than a complete wreck. And for that, he was grateful.

Yet at the same time she had always been a symbol of what he hated the most - that terrible feeling of being forced into a corner. Back in those days he didn't make much of a fuss; he yelled and punched walls but at the end of the day he fell asleep in the bed in his parent's house. The day he left was the day he decided that if he was going to leave his parents, he was going to leave Honoka, too. She wasn't important to him the way Satsuki was - she had always been just kind of  _there,_ and it didn't mean much to him not saying goodbye. He left her number in his phone; he just never used it. And he never heard from her except for really rare instances; New Year's wishes, the occasional ' _this asshole I met in class reminded me of you'._ And it worked out just fine that way.  _  
_

But now she's crossed a line. He never had a problem with her before; after all, she never threw herself at him, even when his parents so desperately craved it (he had speculated they liked the possibility of her admittedly spectacular genes being added to the family gene pool). She visited the Aomine household when she was invited, but their relationship never went beyond the sporadic casual fuck. He didn't expect much from her, but he never knew that she of all people would fall so low for the sake of pretty things. After all, it wasn't like Tokyo was for lack of fashion - was she really not satisfied there? What makes LA so special? Why had she listened to his parents and gone along with it? If she were on his side at all, she should have told them to stick it where the sun don't shine. Yet here she was, acting like he's somehow the one at fault here. 

It was a betrayal that doesn't feel so much like a punch in the face than like a knife in the back. 

Now that Kagami's left, his protective bravado's sort of wearing off and he feels more tired than pissed. Honoka's looking back at him, but her horrible smug smile has somewhat diminished. Now that she doesn't look like she's about to throw a couple of kittens in a potato sack down a well the distinct angry shivers up and down his back are all but gone. But he doesn’t want his anger to fizzle out just yet—he can’t be a pushover like he used to. He's no longer a teenager dependent on his parents, and they aren't here to force him to be polite. The past can’t repeat itself.

He scowls at her. “Don’t be a dick to him.”

She looks up at him, unimpressed, before she sets herself down on the plush chair near the window. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re fully capable of being a dick to him all by yourself.”

Aomine looks away. “I’ve been working on it.”

She laughs. “ _Sure_ you have,” she says, gives him a once over before smirking. “Also, you might wanna put some clothes on.”

Aomine looks down—he’s still just wearing a pair of briefs from after his shower. He hadn’t had the will for anything else, not when he smelled the impending doom of the conversation Kagami pried out of him. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before; he knows that, but a little part of him still feels embarrassed.

“Go fuck yourself,” he snaps, stalks over to his bag and grabs the first pair of basketball shorts he sees. He puts them on without looking at her.

Honoka sighs. “Daiki, you know as well as I do that I’m not here to try to steal you away. Could you try to tone down the dramatics?”

_That's fucking rich._

"Easy for _you_ to say," he snaps. He foregoes a shirt—even with the air conditioning, in his opinion it was still too damn hot for that.

She crosses her legs. “How so?”

He runs an aggravated hand through his hair, leaves it on the back of his neck. "My parents wish you were their kid instead of me. I think I have the right to be a little ticked off about it." 

She frowns. “That’s not true.”

He laughs. “Bullshit. It was always _Honoka-chan_ this, _Honoka-chan_ that, ‘ _Honoka-chan_ can do no wrong she is a goddess sent to us from the Lord above.’” He sits down on the bed, rubs his still-burning eyes, hoping she won’t be able to tell that the edges are red and slightly puffy.

“Honestly. I’m…I’m _so pissed_ at you."

Her brows furrow, and for a second Aomine thinks that she might look sad, regretful. “Are you really?”

He breathes in and out, slowly, keeping himself in check. “I…yeah, I am." He gestures at himself, at the two suitcases lying side-by-side next to the wall. "'cause here I am, _finally_ feeling like I might be able to go somewhere with my life, and then you guys show up. Thinking it’s all some big _joke_ ,” he says, and even to his own ears his voice sounds so damn _tired,_ so _pathetic._ He has a future with something -  _someone_ \- he can actually be proud of for once, and they waltz in here after not seeing him for God-knows-how-long thinking they somehow know what's best for him. 

She bites her lip. “Look, Daiki. I don’t agree with what they’re trying to do, okay? I think it’s shitty. But—“

“Yeah, I know. _But. ‘But_ they’re having a big sale downtown and I couldn’t miss it,’” he mocks in a high voice.

She glares at him, her nails digging into the arms of the chair. “Don’t put words in mouth!” she growls, bites her lip again and sits back from where she had been leaning forward in the chair. “Look. I admit it. That’s part of it. I mean, this is LA, Daiki. How could I not?” she says, absentmindedly uses her thumb to wipe some lipstick away from the edge of her mouth. “But it’s a really, really tiny part,” she continues, looking at him somewhat desperately.  “I tried to talk them out of it, I swear. They wouldn’t budge.”

Aomine narrows his eyes at her disbelievingly. “You tried to talk them out of coming?”

She nods. “Think about it. If it wasn’t me, they were gonna bring someone else. Now would you prefer me or some chick that’s seriously after your ass?”

"You tryin' to tell me you're doing me a  _favor?"_

"No! Shit. Daiki, I...I'm not sayin' that. All I'm tryin' to say is that I know you wanna throw me down a fuckin' volcano right now, but you gotta realize that this is probably the best possible situation for you." She shakes her leg, a steady  _tmp tmp tmp_ of her high heel against the carpet. He doesn’t reply, and she sighs. She almost sounds as tired as he does. “Look - I won’t interfere. That kid—“ she points her finger at the door, “I’ll look out for him, okay? I’ll do what I can. I promise.” She’s quiet for a second. “He seems sweet,” she adds, and Aomine closes his eyes.

“He is."

Honoka huffs, the sound not sounding irritated so much as resigned, and when Aomine opens his eyes he sees that she’s looking out the window uncomfortably. “I’ve hurt you. And I've fucked things up for you in the past,” she murmurs, glancing at him quickly. “And I’m sorry. I’m gonna try to make it up to you somehow.”

He looks at her wearily. “Who are you and where’s the real Honoka?”

A wry smirk. “Somewhere you’ll never find her.” She leans over in her chair to the bedside table, grabs the TV remote and begins surfing through channels. “Now let’s watch some good ol’ American professional wrestling until Mr. Dreamboat shows up with the grub.”

 

\---

**1 New Message**

_From: Tatsuya_

Today 7:34 PM

_I really need to talk to you. But tomorrow._

 

_To: Tatsuya_

Today 7:55 PM

_r u ok? should i come over? what room r u in?_

 

_From: Tatsuya_

Today 7:57 PM

_I'm fine, don't worry. But there's something I need to talk to you about. At the rehearsal._

 

_To: Tatsuya_

Today 8:05 PM

_ok. room # 423 if u need me_

 

_From: Tatsuya_

Today 8:06 PM 

_Alright. Thank you._

 

_From: Tatsuya_

Today 10:21 PM

_Goodnight, Taiga._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter* well, two months is better than three? *crawls into hole of shame*
> 
> Okay lemme tell y'all a little something about this chapter. It probably seems pretty short in comparison to the most recent ones. you wanna know why? Because I cut it in half. BECAUSE IF I HADN'T THIS BITCH WOULD HAVE BEEN 15-16,000 WORDS LONG. and frankly, the way i write/edit is very inefficient. trying to go through and edit 16,000 friggin words just wasn't gonna happen, so i decided to cut it and make the process easier. this means that the second half is mostly finished - so it should be up within a week or two. just...i seriously baffle myself sometimes. 
> 
> Honestly, I feel weird about having an original character in this story. But I had an idea for how I wanted this girl to be, and there are so few women in KNB that it severely narrows the possibilities. I hope you all won’t think any less of this story because of her!
> 
> Also, for all you concerned readers out there, Nigou and Aomine’s hamster Coconut are being looked after by Sakurai, who’s the strip club’s bartender! I have a feeling Aomine is going to “forget” to pick her up once they get home…
> 
> smileyeeyore.tumblr.com is da place to be homies!


	15. in the dark we'll lay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd tell you everything will be fine, but I don't want to lie.

When Kagami wakes up in the morning, he’s startled by how alert he feels. There’s not a drop of lingering exhaustion in his body from the previous day, and he almost feels  _too_ awake - he feels like he could run a couple laps around the city - and, glancing at the bedside clock, he realizes he has enough time to do just that.

His arms are wrapped around Aomine’s shoulders, Aomine’s face shoved into his collarbones. Kagami tends to cling when he sleeps, the weight of his arms constricting, and he feels a little guilty when he notices the awkward angle Aomine's nose is being squished against the bone. But he's never complained about it, even when Kagami sees him massaging a sore neck the next morning. It was one of those things they were both aware of but never spoke of - neither of them were willing to admit to each other that they enjoyed sleeping that way too much to stop. He extracts himself as carefully as possible, Aomine’s face scrunching up in unconscious displeasure at having been disturbed - as soon as Kagami frees himself, he buries his head underneath the pillow with a low mumble, hiking the blankets over himself until he’s an unrecognizable lump.

Kagami dresses in silence, laces up his running shoes and then he’s closing the door softly behind him. Stepping out into the early morning sun is more refreshing than anything; it’s still early enough that the heat hasn’t had time to build much, and the breeze ruffles his loose tank top. The sunlight that’s able to break through the sparse cloud cover warms the top of his head, his neck, his arms and legs.

After a quick stretch to get his muscles ready, he begins to run. And it feels  _so good_ , having  _this_ air in his lungs,  _this_ sunlight gradually warming his shoulders. The city is lacking that swarmed type of busyness at this time of morning; it’s not quiet, but he can easily concentrate on his breathing, on the birds chirping and the sound of his feet as they smack the concrete, over and over. 

Once he's hit his stride, he turns his body over to autopilot and takes this time to go through his mental checklist of the week. For today, he has wedding rehearsals in a few hours, the rehearsal dinner being later in the evening. Tomorrow is the wedding followed by the reception, where he has to make his best man speech - the mere thought has his stomach churning with nerves, and he has to fight to keep the consequent dizzy spell from laying him flat on the sidewalk. He's never been very eloquent with his words, even less so in front of a lot of people (cue traumatic school presentation flashbacks) and the very last thing he wants to do is embarrass Tatsuya. Or himself. 

Shaking that thought away, he tries to refocus on more pleasant things. He makes a mental note to be sure to spend at least one day before they leave visiting his parents. He knows they’ll be present for the ceremony and the reception, but he also knows that they’re going to be wanting some quality one-on-one time. This also brings up the absolutely delightful prospect of having to introduce them to Aomine. 

And, of course, while his mind snakes around the thought of parents, he has no choice but to grimly consider their current predicament. 

After eating through five large pizzas and drinking through three six-packs of beer between them, he had decided that Honoka wasn’t what he had expected at all. She almost reminded him of a smaller, feistier, female version of Aomine. She was funny - her sense of humor was filthy, and after he got a few beers in him even Aomine had started laughing at her crass jokes. Kagami had watched them closely; he wasn’t about to forget about the screaming match from earlier, or Aomine’s reaction to seeing her in the lobby. But he didn’t see any warning signs, and by the time he was nursing a food baby and Honoka was drunkenly stumbling out of their room, he almost kind of liked her.

Aomine’s parents were another story.

_Just what the hell am I going to do?_

Running miles all over the city is less exhausting than thinking about it. He had lots of time yesterday to mull it over, what Aomine had told him about his life living under his parent's roof. And when he thinks about it from  _his_ perspective - being raised by an unsupportive family since childhood - Kagami wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to share the details either. He thinks about all those months of randomly catching Aomine with that  _look_ \- desperate and livid and miserable all rolled up into one - and of how no matter how much he pried, Aomine never gave into what was eating at him. 

_He just didn’t want me to worry about him._

And knowing that was the case makes him feel _worse_. What he had originally speculated, a lack of trust; maybe he could have dealt with that. Thinking Aomine didn't trust him hadn't felt _good,_ but, after all, it would have only been fair. In the months of their relationship, Kagami had been the only one who had ever shown a smidgen of doubt. Doubt of Aomine’s commitment, of his loyalty, of the honesty of his character; that was all on him. And while he had certainly deserved it in the beginning, hadn't he long proven himself by now? In contrast, Aomine had never questioned Kagami’s sincerity, had never forced that plug on their physical relationship, and—

Oh,  _God_.

Kagami stops in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes wide in disbelief. _No, that wasn't - he couldn't have -_

Had they really never…had he  _still_  never…?

He frantically rewinds the past months in his mind, back to every spur-of-the-moment rendezvous with Aomine; in the backseat of his car, on the couch, once in the fitting rooms of a department store. The lazy weeknights trying to keep themselves quiet in Kagami’s bedroom. That first time at the beach, the terror of the cold ocean melted away by soft touches.

Every single time,  _he_ had been the one to…

 _That’s not the issue here!_ he chastises himself, ashamed at his derailment of thought into such a trivial matter. Thinking about their sexual relationship at a time like this was beyond stupid (they had far more important things to worry about), and did it actually matter? He wasn't a delusional child. He knew there were lots of ways to have sex - one way wasn’t more _official_ than the other. 

_It’s not like Daiki cares._

Kagami stares at his feet as he starts up again at a walk this time, mulling it over in his head. The fact of the matter is that he had never let Aomine fuck him. Not once. And he had nearly completely forgotten about their agreement from that first night - that Kagami wouldn’t let Aomine take control in that way until it was a certainty he could be trusted. It was a sloppy agreement - the words had never even been properly said. That could probably be boiled down to the fact that Kagami wasn't fond of words in general. He spoke with his actions, with his body. Aomine had seemed to understood what he wanted; in fact, if memory serves correctly, he had been extremely enthusiastic about it. And Kagami had just assumed they were on the same page, and then forgotten about it completely. 

For an entire six months.

Guilt floods him. He had been so careless, so _thoughtless._  After the first few times they had sex, he hadn’t even considered the alternative - by instinct or by habit, he was always the one who took the lead. He had never let himself be vulnerable in that way. 

Kagami stops again, biting on his lip. How dare he even  _think_ of accusing Aomine of not trusting him, when this whole time  _he’s_ be subjugating Aomine to this domineering restriction? What did he think he was proving, asking Aomine of something like that? Sure, it wasn't a conscious decision. But even so it made it seem like their relationship was tethered by a thin string only Kagami got to pinch between his fingers, a silent warning for Aomine not to stray a toe out of line. And even though he didn’t see it that way, just because  _he_ forgot what the act entailed, doesn’t mean Aomine has. 

And that means that if he's having this realization, chances are Aomine has too. 

_You fucking asshole._

Kagami feels like finding the nearest tree and bashing his head against it repeatedly. How did this train of thought evade him this entire time? What did Aomine think of him? To this day, does he still think Kagami doubts him the way he used to? 

_Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Kagami turns on the sidewalk, looks both ways for cars before sprinting across the road and jumping onto the sidewalk on the other side. He begins running again, perpendicular to his original route to begin heading back towards the hotel.

_But you can worry about this later._

As much as he'd like to run straight back and yell apologies right in Aomine's face, when the subject is still fresh and his shame is at its peak, he also knows that Aomine doesn't need another thing to stress out. He needs to be thinking about his parents - whether he wants to try talking to them, or avoid them completely. He needs to think about what Honoka's presence means to him. He should be trying to take advantage of this opportunity in another country to have some fun, no matter the circumstances. The last thing he needs to be thinking about is why in the world won't his boyfriend ever let him top when they have sex. 

Kagami steels his resolve, pushes himself to go faster, his breathing turning ragged. Aomine has enough on his plate right now without listening to Kagami’s silly little crises. He’ll bring it up after the wedding, once they’re home in one piece.

_It can wait._

 

\---

 

 

When he returns to the hotel he’s a hot, sweaty mess, his mind a whirlwind of parents and weddings and sex and  _where am I supposed to pick up my tux again?_ He just wants his brain to shut up for roughly five minutes so that he can relax. This was technically his vacation, even though so far it really hasn't felt like one. 

A hot shower sounds unbearable, so instead he steals away into their room again, careful not to wake Aomine, and he blindly grabs his swim trunks that he had set over the edge of the bathtub to dry overnight. He changes in the hotel locker rooms, quickly rinses off the worst of it in the showers, and then heads for the pool.

Like yesterday, he doesn’t spend time in the deep end - he floats on his back for a while in the shallows, feeling his temperature drop and the blood leaving his flushed cheeks. He watches the few people that are lounging about in the courtyard with him; most of them are lying in the pool-side chairs to get some early-morning sun, but a few are bobbing in the deep end sleepily, and their conversations are quiet enough not to be bothersome.

By the time the poolside bar opens he knows he’s spent enough time lazing around and needs to get ready for the rehearsal. All he knows is that Momoi’s in charge and that they’re going to be practicing in the park down the street.

This time, when Kagami opens the door to their room, Aomine’s head pops out from under the blankets, and he unearths a hand to turn on the table lamp.

Kagami unhooks the towel from around his neck and wipes away a few stray drops from his chest before drying his hair - not caring about getting the bed wet, he sits down on the edge in his sodden swim trunks with a sigh. Barely a moment later does the mattress shift, and then arms are snaking around his middle, lips pressing into the small of his back. “Mornin’, early bird,” Aomine whispers, and Kagami leans back slightly into his touch.

“Not so early anymore,” Kagami says, throwing his towel into a dark corner of the room. 

Aomine snorts, the sound somehow sounding sleepy. “Sorry that not all of us wanna get up at the asscrack of dawn,” he says, voice still quiet, his nose skimming Kagami’s back. All of a sudden he huffs. “You stink like chlorine,” he grumbles.

Kagami hums. “That’s what usually happens when you swim in a pool.”

“You need to shower,” Aomine continues, ignoring him. He pauses. “ _I_ need to shower.” Another pause. “This is not a simple coincidence, Taiga. This is _destiny_.”

Kagami chuckles, twists around to find Aomine looking up at him hopefully. “I don’t have time. I’m the best man - I gotta get together with the rest of the wedding party to practice,” he says, checking the bold red numbers of the digital clock as he does - he has to meet Momoi and the others in the lobby in fifteen minutes, and he still needs to finish drying off and getting together his stuff.

Aomine groans. “Practice  _what?_ All you gotta do is stand there.”

Kagami shrugs. “Walk in, stand there, walk out. I dunno. It’s serious business.”

Aomine drags himself forward until they’re sitting side-by-side, letting out a huge yawn. “Let them practice without you. You’ll probably just slow them down anyway.”

Kagami’s lips twitch. “Have I told you lately that you’re an absolute ass?”

“Not in the past five minutes, no.”

“Oh, then I guess I’m right on schedule. You’re an absolute ass.”

“But I’m  _your_ ass.” He pauses, brows furrowing. Opens his mouth. Closes it. “Wait. That didn’t come out right.”

Kagami bursts out laughing, the sound loud and bright in the sleepiness of the dim hotel room. His nose crinkling, he butts his head into Aomine's shoulder, his own shaking. 

Aomine groans, his free hand reaching up to massage his eyelids. “Aww, _fuck_. You’re so fucking  _cute._ ” He grimaces with disgust, and in one movement he catches Kagami’s face in his hands, mashes his palms into either side of Kagami’s cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pursed like a fish’s. “Take responsibility.”

Kagami outright giggles, the sound distorted out of his squished mouth, and it makes him laugh even harder. “For wha’?” he chokes out.

Aomine glares at him seriously. “Tooth decay."

“’ow do I thake rethponsibility?” he asks, the words awkward and lisping, and Aomine cracks a broad grin.

“Make out with me.”

He puckers his lips exaggeratedly, making a slow show of leaning in, his lashes fanning coyly. He makes kissy noises, loudly smacking his lips across Kagami's cheeks and forehead, deliberately being messy. "Kiss me. Kiss me baby," he croons, and Kagami squirms, breathless with laughter, before he manages to wriggle away. He wipes the slobber off his face, struggling to breathe, and scoots across the bed until there's a solid foot between them. Ignoring Aomine’s pout, he schools his expression into the best serious face he can manage right now and says in a deep, mocking voice, “’ _The only one who can make out with me is me_.’”

For a heartbeat, Aomine is frozen, his face fixed in shock, and then he pushes at Kagami so hard he tumbles to his back on the bed, his roaring laughter near-hysterical and Aomine groans, stuffs his face in his hands, mortified. “ _Fuck!_ Who told you?! It was Tetsu, wasn’t it? Damn traitor! God dammit!”

“I can’t believe you actually said shit like that! So—!” Kagami gasps for air. “So  _embarrassing!_ ”

“I was in high school! Fuck you! Fuck everything!” He’s trying to look angry but his chin is dimpling in that way Kagami knows means he’s trying his hardest not to smile. “And that doesn’t even make sense! How can I make out with  _myself_?”

Kagami grins at him, hand clutching the sudden side-stitch beneath his ribcage. “There’s a mirror in the bathroom. I’d let you have some privacy.”

Aomine’s face is sardonic. “And everybody says  _I’m_ an asshole, you smug bastard. Now you’re  _really_ gonna pay.”

Kagami kind of likes the sound of that, and he opens his mouth to say so when he sees red in his peripheral vision - he sits up quickly, hisses at the time. “Okay, okay, but can you make me pay later? I really, really gotta go.”

He gets up from the bed at lightning speed, ripping off his swim trunks to begin digging for something decent out of his luggage.

Aomine groans again, crawls his way up the bed back to his burrow. “Fine. I’m goin’ back to sleep.”

Kagami runs the towel through his hair one more time, double-checks that he has his keys. “Okay. I’ll see you when I get back,” he says, slipping on his shoes and making his way towards the door.

“Try not to let your legs get too tired,” Aomine calls after him.

Kagami turns, hand on the knob. “Why would they?”

He doesn’t need to see the cheeky grin to know it’s there. “You know. Runnin’ through my mind and all.”

Kagami smiles. “Shut up. That was gross.”

“I think the word you were looking for was  _romantic.”_

“If you say so.” He shakes his head. “Bye. Sleep tight.”

“Not as tight as my—!”

Kagami shuts the door as fast as possible to avoid subjecting his ears the rest of that sentence.

 

\---

 

“Okay, Tai-chan, what you need to do is that when I give you the signal, you’re going to start walking down the aisle,” Momoi tells him, gesturing broadly. She then takes both his hands in hers and tows him down a distance, planting him to the side of their makeshift altar at the base of a large oak tree. “Stand right  _here,_ and turn your shoulders a little to the side…yes, like that, at an angle, and hold your hands in front of you - and remember not to slouch! Back straight! Chin up!…there. Perfect.” She backs up a few steps to look him up and down, nodding to herself. Kagami tries as hard as possible to keep his position in the exact way she left him, his back ramrod straight - he swallows nervously as she suddenly squints at him, tittering. “Tomorrow, ask Kise-kun to take care of your hair. I don’t want to be seeing the usual bird’s nest!” She looks at him critically. “Do you even own a comb?”

He frowns. “I do too.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m not trying to be mean,” she says distractedly, looking behind her where the rest of the groomsmen and women are waiting to be directed. “Okamura-san! You’re going to be next!” She runs back the way they had come, gesturing in the same way as she had with Kagami, and the giant man in question nods seriously, seeming to gather courage before taking his first slow steps down the simple row between fold-out chairs. She places him on Kagami’s right, physically moving his limbs in the exact position she requires. She kicks his legs a little farther apart and he grunts, his face blushing a light pink.

“Hey, Momoi,” Kagami murmurs, watching as she forcefully places one of Okamura’s beefy hands over the other.

“Hmm? Yes, Tai-chan?...Okamura-san! Please don’t move!”

Kagami fidgets. “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

She glances up at him, cocking an eyebrow and shoving at Okamura’s shoulders. “This is about Daiki’s parents, isn’t it?”

He nods stiffly, shuffles his feet from side to side without actually moving his posture in any way. He feels a little awkward, talking about this when they're well within earshot of multiple people. As much as he'd like to have this conversation in private, he can't think of a better time when he knows he'll be able to catch Momoi when she's not making last-minute preparations. Almost as if detecting the sensitivity of the topic, Okamura seems to deliberately turn his head in the opposite direction, his eyes diverted to the branches up above like it will somehow temporarily deafen him.

“Yeah. I just…I don’t know what to do.” He follows Okamura's lead, looks up at the harsh sunlight filtering through the tree branches, thinks fleetingly about how it makes him feel like he’s looking up at shifting green water from the bottom of a lake. “Because…ugh, Jesus. You know him - if he needs help he’s not gonna ask for it. And just to get him to tell me the bare basics was like pulling fucking teeth.”

“Sounds like him,” she says softly, glances behind her again. “Fukui-kun! Come here!” She then looks back up at Kagami before giving Okamura his space back, and Kagami swears the man breathes a sigh of relief.

“You can’t change his parents. They are who they are, and they’ve always been this way.” She grabs onto Fukui’s hand, positions him next to Okamura and begins her process. “Noka-chan is a different story. She has her rough spots, absolutely. But I feel that she’s actually a very genuine and fun girl. Misguided and ornery, but she doesn’t have ulterior motives.” She nods to herself. “I really believe that she wants nothing more than for Daiki to be happy.” She pauses thoughtfully. “But she just doesn’t...doesn't see things the way he does. Even if she thinks it's for his own good, in his eyes, the decent thing to do would have been to stay put back home." 

Kagami frowns. "What do you think?"

Momoi blinks. "What do I think was the right thing to do? That's a tough call. I'm not sure." Her hands still on Fukui's shoulders. "I guess it depends on how this all pans out." 

Even though he knows she didn't mean for that to sound so ominous, a shiver still runs down his spine. _It d_ _epends on how this all pans out._ He refuses to even begin thinking about all the ways this could potentially end. 

Biting his lip anxiously, his fingers twitch at his sides. “They want them to get together. His parents.”

She cuts a look at him, gaze sharp. “Yes.”

He swallows dryly. “Right.”

“Tai-chan.” Momoi drops her hands from where they had been tugging at Fukui’s hair, trying to get it lie flat. “I know you probably want the approval of your boyfriend’s parents. But the reality is that they are not good people, and they are not worthy of you  _or_  their son.”

He freezes, and a ball of _something_ immediately clogs Kagami's throat, muting him. He looks down at his feet, lost for words, but he glances up when Momoi’s sparkly shoes are suddenly standing on the grass right in front of him. She’s looking at him sternly, hands on her hips, but her eyes look a little sad.

“There’s nothing you can do about them. People like that don’t change, no matter how you want them to. In Daiki’s case, well,” she shrugs. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. Keep being there for him, keep being you, keep making him smile. That’s something you’re very good at.” She smiles at him softly, incredibly fond and tender, and Kagami very nearly feels embarrassed. “He loves you more than moon and the stars, Tai-chan. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he smiles weakly, and then drops his voice to mumble, “I love him, too.”

He didn't  _think_ he had said something all that groundbreaking (after all, it's not like it was news to _him_ ) but the way she looks at him then makes him think he might have accidentally revealed the secrets of the universe. Her soft smile erupts - it spreads across her face, instantaneous, brighter than the California sun as she beams up at him. “Really?” she breathes. “Have you told him?” she asks, her voice delighted, and soft, like she’s trying to keep it in between just them.

“Told him what?” Kagami says to his feet.

“That you love him, silly.”

“Of co—” he begins, and then Kagami stops short, his brows furrowing. Something doesn't feel quite right - it feels like what he had been about to say had been a lie. But why would that be? He loves Aomine, and he's told him so. He has, hasn’t he? They’ve been together six months, and he’s been in love for at least half of that - has he really never said it out loud?

Kagami's stomach sinks like a boat full of lead, and he groans, buries his face in his hands.  _Great._ Just one more thing making him a sucky human being. He needs to start making a detailed list. 

He’s just been so used to Aomine saying it as flippantly as asking about the weather, an everyday constant. He would say it during the most insignificant activities - watching TV or eating fast food, it didn't matter to him what they were doing. He always found a lull in conversation to sneak it in, and Kagami gradually began to think nothing of it. In the early days, he became so used to replying to that sentence with a broad smile and a soft, “I know,” that he forgot that he probably should have started replying with “I love you, too”, fucking  _forever_ ago.

He drops his hands sourly. So now not only does Aomine think Kagami is still in the “he’s-just-after-my-body” mindset, but he also thinks that he’s the only one in this relationship who’s disgustingly in love. Which is so laughably far from the truth that it’s making his skin feel sick and slimy, mirroring his inner turmoil. 

Today has just been one punch in the face after another. Granted, he was the one punching himself in the face, but it still feels like there's something foul behind the scenes poking at him with a branding iron. 

But, the good news was that this problem was an easier fix than the first. Knowing Aomine, he'd probably slip in his usual proclamation sometime later in the day. All Kagami would have to do to alleviate his guilt would be to casually respond in kind. No big extravagant declarations, no hurt feelings - he could pretend that he hadn't even noticed that for the past six months he's been acting like an emotionally stunted rock. 

But, still...

_I’m so sorry._

He looks back at her, his eyes the size of dinner plates. “I haven’t.”

Her jaw drops. “You told  _me_ first? You  _idiot,”_ she punches him not-so-lightly in the middle of his chest, and the breath gets knocked out of him a little. “You better get to it, Mister. I know he says he doesn’t care but I’m sure it’d be a nice thing to hear from you.”  

Once he catches his breath, he manages to nod, ashamed. “I will. I just need to find the right time.”

“Good,” Momoi sniffs, turns away from him and walks back to the group of waiting people. He’s just watching her lead Murasakibara’s older sister (drop-dead gorgeous, at least as tall as Kagami, looking insanely bored) down the aisle towards the rest of them when he feels a sudden presence at his side. He looks down from the corner of his eye as he’s still trying to keep his perfect positioning, and finds Tatsuya looking up at him, his expression something like worry.

“Taiga, may I speak with you about something for a moment? In private?” he asks in a whisper, jerking his head towards a play structure some distance away. Kagami blinks - he had completely forgotten about Tatsuya's text message from last night. Immediately, he feels a protective instinct rising up from his feet, his blood beginning to pump faster. Was Tatsuya in trouble? Did he owe somebody money? Why did he look so uncertain? But no matter how concerned he is, his fear of messing up Momoi's carefully crafted stance and subsequently facing her wrath keeps him rooted firmly in place. 

He furrows his brows, tips his head towards their director. “Don’t you need to…?”

Tatsuya shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Atsushi and I are last. Please?”

Kagami doesn’t break position, bites his lip indecisively. “Momoi’s gonna kill me.”

Tatsuya laughs, the sound a little off. “It’s  _my_ wedding. I can steal my best man for a moment if I want to. Come on,” he tugs at Kagami’s elbow, and Kagami finally relents, lets Tatsuya lead him away. Their pace is casual, probably to avoid letting Momoi detect any sudden movements. His tennis shoes crunch over the wood chips covering the playground, and he climbs up the tangle of metal poles after Tatsuya, reaching the top and leaning his arms across the top of the plastic slide. Tatsuya stands next to him, and the two of them look out over the greenness of the park. Kagami idly wonders how much water is needed to keep the plants quenched in this heat; from where he's standing, little mirage waves are radiating from the parking lot asphalt, and anything in the distance appears slightly fogged with dust. Even the top of the slide is molten to the touch - he slips his arms from them, rubs the reddened, heat-irritated skin with his palms. 

“So, what’s on your mind?” Kagami finally asks after a few minutes of silence, half-thinks of ducking when Momoi finally realizes he’s gone. He can see her stamp her foot from his perch.

Tatsuya’s quiet, seems to be gathering his thoughts. He doesn’t say anything for a long time - he doesn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular, just gazing off into space with a blank expression. Kagami sees that his pale skin looks a bit sallow, sweat lightly gleaming on his forehead. His eyebrows are heavily creased, and his lips are chapped. Almost as if by explanation, as Kagami watches, his top teeth dig into them roughly.

“Tatsuya? You okay?”

His head snaps up, like he had forgotten he asked to speak with Kagami alone in the first place. His surprised expression is immediately replaced by something like guilt. “Oh! Of course.” He swallows, goes silent again. He fidgets a little. A drop of sweat rolls down his temple to run down his neck, disappearing beneath his shirt collar. "I…”

Kagami leans forward to see his face better. “What’s wrong?”

Tatsuya’s eyes look glazed. “I...I…need…” he mumbles softly; another second and he looks back up at Kagami, eyes wide. “Oh, nothing, nothing’s wrong! Ahh...I just wanted to ask you if you had your speech already planned out?”

Kagami can only stare at him blankly for a moment. _Does he really think I'm that stupid?_  It was so painfully obvious that that wasn’t what Tatsuya was originally going to tell him - and he knows it too, his face slightly flushed with embarrassment, and his eyebrows drawn in with discomfort as he stares at a point on Kagami’s chest. But if it's one thing Kagami learned from growing up together, it was that Tatsuya's temper was unpredictable. He doesn't know what'll set it off, and from the way he's looking right now, prodding at him now might be a death sentence.

So he decides to just roll with it. 

He runs fingers through his hair, pretending to the best of his acting ability not to be caught off guard. “Oh. Uhh…yeah, I guess. I mean, I showed Momoi, and she thinks it’s okay…I know I’m not the best speaker, but I swear I’ll try my best. And I’ll try not to embarrass you. Sorry in advance if I screw up.”

Tatsuya waves his hands. “Oh, no, no. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Great, even! Yes, you’ll do great!” He grimaces. “Okay, I’ll let you…get back to practicing. Thank you. For everything. I need to…go assist Momoi-san.” And with that he nudges Kagami out of the way with his hip and clambers hastily onto the slide. He breezes down, barely slows before he catches himself on the wood chips and begins taking long strides across the grass, not looking back.

Kagami watches him go, completely bewildered. What was  _that_ about? Kagami hasn’t seen Tatsuya that flustered since he shared the news of his engagement, and even then he hadn’t looked so frazzled. He feels like it even goes beyond nervousness - Tatsuya had looked  _ill,_ like whatever he had to say was festering inside his body, poisoning him.

Kagami huffs, ignores the flaming plastic of the slide and sets his chin atop his folded arms. There’s no possible way for him to guess what’s going on. After all, good weather seemed to follow Tatsuya wherever he went; Kagami wasn't used to dealing with him when he was lost like this. He didn't gamble, didn't smoke, hardly drank. He was undoubtedly fit as a fiddle; the man was obsessive about his hygiene, and even if he wasn't as athletic as he used to be he still took a handful of suspicious-looking vitamins every morning. So there was no way that he was _actually sick;_ after all, Murasakibara has been acting far too calm for there to be any life-threatening illnesses involved. 

He also finds it hard to believe that Tatsuya somehow found himself on someone's bad side. Even though he was firm in his opinions and wasn't shy of speaking his mind, he couldn't make enemies if he tried, be it a random asshole on the street or yakuza bosses. So then was he just _extremely_ upset that they hadn't had the time to throw a bachelor party? But no, they had already discussed that particular issue - even though they had received a timely heads-up, too many of Tatsuya's closest friends hadn't been able to get more than a few days off of work to fly to America. Not wanting to hit the town with such a small party, they had decided to redirect the bachelor party money towards extra wedding presents. If anything, Kagami was more upset about it than Tatsuya was (it just would have been _so cool,_  he would have made it  _so fun_ _\- )._  

So after crossing all those possibilities off his list, by process of elimination the best idea he can come up with is cold feet…is that something that could happen to his brother? Maybe the thought of being with one person for the rest of his life was beginning to sound a little daunting. Except he didn't _seem_ like the kind of person that would shy away from commitment, but perhaps the circumstances are pretty extenuating this time. Marriage is forever, and Tatsuya certainly wasn't someone who would take that lightly.  _He’s only human, after all._ Kagami shakes his head, his hair growing uncomfortably hot under the sweltering sun. The next time he finds Tatsuya alone he’ll talk to him about it. He’s not a life coach, but he’s the best man - pumping up the groom is part of his job. He’s not going to let Tatsuya down when he's most needed.

He straightens himself, newly motivated, but his stomach flips with dread when he sees a pink head, an aggravated arm waving in the air and shouting in his direction.

“Taiga! You get your idiot butt back down here! We are  _not_ finished yet!

 

\---

 

Seven hours later finds Kagami and Aomine loitering around the lobby aimlessly, waiting.

After the rehearsal, the day had blessedly passed uneventfully. Kagami had shuttled the four of them around town for a while, showing them his childhood stomping grounds and favorite places. He had taken them down his old street, pointed out his basketball courts, showed them his parent's house (he didn't have the balls quite yet for introductions, so he had made them settle for staring at the outside from the safety of the sidewalk). 

And while it had been nice to spend time with his friends somewhere without the possibility of running into someone they wanted to avoid, all the while he had been partially distracted by the infinite number of issues scratching annoyingly at the forefront of his mind. His relationship with Aomine, the thorn in his side that were Aomine's parents, possibly Honoka (she seemed to be fairly harmless, but who was he to say for sure at this point), and now Tatsuya's unknown crisis. Will it never end? A part of him guiltily wishes that they could just go home already and be rid of a majority of these problems. But he's made a promise, and even more so over his dead body would he miss the wedding of his brother. Which leaves him no alternative but to grin and bear it, albeit without grinning so much as a constant grimace. 

So now Kagami's sitting in one of the unfairly comfortable chairs (what did they _put_ in these things? Unicorn down?) while Aomine sits tensely on the arm, his head swiveling around in a constant arc, every now and then peeking over his shoulder. Kagami doesn't bother asking what he's doing; that was all too clear, and Kagami wasn't free of paranoia himself. He feels too exposed, longs to just get out of here already. Momoi is supposed to meet them so they can head to the rehearsal dinner together, but she's running late, and as each minute ticks by the both of them get a little more anxious. At exactly six twenty-five, nearly half an hour after the rehearsal dinner had started, Kagami glances up at the sound of his name carrying across the marble floors.

“Kaga-chin, Mine-chin,” Murasakibara says, looking exhausted and quite frankly a little grumpy. He’s wearing a white button-up and dress pants, his hair pulled back again into a ponytail, stray hairs slicked back with gel.  

“Hey, Mura,” Kagami replies, standing from his seat. “What’re you doing here?”

Murasakibara’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. “I came here to pick you guys up. Muro-chin doesn’t trust you to find the room by yourself.”

Kagami bristles. “For the last time, I’m not that dumb!”

“He seems to disagree,” Murasakibara says, smiling in a lopsided way, and turns to lead them down one of the high-ceiling hallways leading off from the main lobby. The wall designs are just as ornate and impressive as the main room, and the sound of their dress shoes echo, mingling with the sounds of clinking silver and glassware in the near distance. The further they travel down the hallway, the less modern and more quaint the decorations become, flowery-patterned vases on stands lining the walls, paintings of people from the Victorian era giving off a feeling a stepping through time. The clashing of time periods somehow doesn't come across as corny, and he's able to appreciate the skill that comes with the seamless meshing of eras. 

Even though Murasakibara’s legs are longer, Kagami finds that he doesn’t have to quicken his pace at all to keep up the slow, seemingly reluctant steps. He falls easily into step beside him, inclines his head and looks up questioningly. “What happened to Momoi? She was supposed to meet us.”

Murasakibara grunts. “Sa-chin got a little held up. Something bad happened to my sister’s dress, I don’t know. She’s helping to fix it.”

Kagami makes a wordless noise of understanding, and beside him Aomine tugs on the collar of his shirt, looking uncomfortable. “Why am I coming to this again? I mean, I'm not complainin' bout the free food, but I’m not part of that wedding party jazz.”

Kagami shrugs. “Tatsuya said I could bring a date. It was between you and Kuroko, but he didn’t wanna leave Kise alone. So here you are.”

Aomine grins at him, the curl of his lips looking more like a sarcastic snarl than a smile. “I’m touched.”

A couple more meters down the hallway and Murasakibara turns abruptly to the right to step through large, opened wooden doors. Here, the sounds of voices and the tinkling of silverware has reached its crescendo, and Kagami follows him through with Aomine beside him.

The ballroom isn’t very big; clearly meant for small-sized parties like their own. There are already around twenty people here - Kagami sees Tatsuya’s parents, the groomsmen and women he met earlier in the day at the rehearsal. The room itself follows the pattern of the old-fashioned hallways outside, but the style is, in Kagami’s book, more attractive than anything modern. There are more chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a continuation of the gleaming marble floors; the lighting above the chandeliers is minimal, casting a semi-dim glow. The room is spread with circular tables covered with a cloth colored a dull gold, each with plates and silverware sets. The majority of the people are standing in groups near the tables, having already eaten and now enjoying a glass of champagne. Others are sat and eating delicious-looking food, and others still are simply filling themselves by swooping down on the catering staff that are carrying around platters of mini-keesh and cocktail shrimp. Mounted on the walls are large speakers, and soft instrumental music is playing in the background.

The amount of people is kind of daunting (if there were this many people at the _rehearsal,_ he can't imagine how many will be at the wedding reception; and, Oh  _God,_ his  _speech, Lord have mercy on his soul - )_  and Kagami half-wants to go back to his room and sleep. He sighs wearily. “So, what are we supposed to do?”

“You? You don’t have to do anything,” Murasakibara grumbles, his voice thick with jealousy. “Just eat and talk, I don’t know. I have to go around with Muro-chin and say hi to everybody.” He makes a sound, something akin to a whimper. “So many people…”

“Sounds like my kinda party,” Aomine says cheerfully, and Murasakibara glares at him, clearly unimpressed with the blatant spite.

“Whatever. I’ll see you guys later,” Murasakibara mumbles before floating away with an unhappy wave, immediately getting pounced on by what looks like Tatsuya’s several younger cousins. They hang off of him, one climbing him like a tree. He begins trudging along between tables, weighted down by children and looking absolutely miserable.

Kagami chuckles, taking another look around, and he finally notices that along the far left wall is a long table covered with food. He all but gasps. “There’s a  _buffet?!”_

Aomine grabs onto his elbow before he can even think of dashing off - his other hand settles at the small of Kagami's back, firmly leading him away towards a grouping of empty tables. “Let’s find someplace to sit first.”

“Okay, yeah, sure," Kagami agrees, but his breathing has become a bit labored, and Aomine grumbles almost-inaudibly beside him, “ _Jeez, wish I could turn you on that fast_.” He sighs before looking around, pursing his lips. His gaze zeros in on a man sitting to their right, and he subtly points at him. “You wanna hang out with ‘Sakibara’s brother? I talked to him in the elevator for a couple minutes. He seems pretty cool.”

Kagami's almost surprised that the man's hair isn't a bright, garish violet but a normal, inconspicuous brown. He does, however, carry the dominant family trait of resting bitch-face, and as Kagami watches he sneakily reaches inside his dress pants pocket, unearthing a chocolate bar. Kagami wants to find out what else the siblings have in common, but he hesitates, feeling a familiar, demanding ache in his lower belly. He pulls his elbow away from Aomine's grip. “That sounds fine, but I’ll meet you there. I actually really have to piss.”

Aomine rolls his eyes. “Why didn’t you piss before we  _left?”_

“I have a lot on my mind,  _okay?_   Unlike you, some of us have actual  _responsibilities._ ”

Another eye roll. Aomine waves him off, begins walking over to the man's table. “Fine. Have fun." 

Getting the go-ahead, Kagami steps out of the ballroom, immediately on the lookout for the men’s room. He begins prowling further down the hallway, away from the direction of the lobby. He knows that there’ll be a bathroom there, but he’s hoping that there’s one closer by; if at all possible, he wants to avoid highly-populated areas where running into someone unpleasant was a greater possibility. He peeks through the open doors as he goes - a lounge, a room solely of vending machines, several other small-sized ballrooms. He reaches one that’s dimly lit, and when he stares into it, he sees that it’s a billiards room. It looks like the kind of place that should be permanently smokey, with old men nursing glasses of whiskey and sharing cigars. But the air is clear of smoke, and nearly completely clear of people. He sees dart boards on the very back wall, the rest of the room crammed with two pool tables. There’s only one person inside -  they stand between the two tables, several darts in their hand, the other one raised and aimed at the wall. Almost as if they can feel the weight of Kagami’s stare, they choose that moment to look over their shoulder - and Kagami freezes.

It’s Aomine’s father. 

They stare at each other for a long moment, unblinking, deadly silent. The other man's expression is unreadable. Kagami looks desperately for familiar quirks - a chin dimple, a tick of his mouth, furrowed brows, but there is nothing to hint as to what he's thinking. Kagami suddenly feels very nervous that they’re meeting while this man has a handful of sharp, pointy objects between clenched hands, his posture stiff and aura radiating what he believes to be intense dislike. In a flustered panic, Kagami does the only thing he can think of - he bows, a quick bend at the waist without looking, and then he bolts down the hallway.

Luckily, the men’s room happens to be the next door on the left, and he all but dives into it. He takes a moment to catch his breath and try to still the frantic pounding of his heart. He’s ashamed of his cowardice, he really is - but the thought of having his first conversation with Aomine’s father  _by himself_ is frankly terrifying.

He takes another few deep breaths, feels this pulse thundering in his ears, jumping in the side of his neck. He takes a moment to calm himself in happy make-believe (a naked Aomine hand-feeding him limitless cheeseburgers) and then he pushes off from the door to take care of his business in a daze. The back of his head and back vaguely tingle as he tries to be aware of any invisible eyes behind him, his ears straining for approaching footsteps. Washing his hands, he lets himself relax further, pumping the soap dispenser on autopilot. If he hadn't shown up by now, then Aomine's father probably wasn't going to be following him into the bathroom. He hadn't said anything during their brief meeting either, so maybe he wasn't interested in talking at all. It might be wishful thinking, but perhaps Aomine had successfully gotten his point across the other day.

Kagami purses his lips, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Should he tell Aomine he saw his father, so he can be on the lookout? If it were him, he’d want to know - so that any possible encounters wouldn’t be as surprising. That way, Aomine could think of what he’d want to do in advance. Would he be after another confrontation? Ignore him altogether? He’d like to think he knows what Aomine’s course of action would be, but he just doesn’t have a clue.  

He sighs.

“Taiga.”

Kagami startles, knocking his hands against the water spout, and whirls around half-expecting to see Aomine’s father looming over him with a bloody axe. Instead he finds Tatsuya, wringing his hands and looking at him with frightened eyes. Kagami sags, breathes a sigh of relief and curses his out-of-control paranoia. “Tatsuya,” he mumbles quietly, the false start of adrenaline suddenly making him feel exhausted. He looks at the door accusingly - he hadn’t heard it open, and he’s lucky he just took a piss or else he might have had a leak in his pants.  

Blinking, he observes Tatsuya more closely. “What’s wrong? You look kinda spooked,” he says, noticing all the similar symptoms as earlier in the day - Tatsuya looks downright nauseous, a startling contrast to how handsome he would look otherwise: combed black hair, pressed lilac shirt that complements the paleness of his skin.

“I'm, uh, no, I...I need to get something off my chest,” Tatsuya says, his voice high with impending panic. His fingers are laced together in front of himself so tightly it looks painful, his teeth once more ravaging his abused lips. Kagami frowns, places a hand on Tatsuya’s shoulder - he’s expecting his touch to be soothing, something to calm him down. But to his surprise the frantic look in Tatsuya’s eyes only grows stronger, and he looks like he’s struggling to breathe. 

 _Man, cold feet must feel awful,_ Kagami thinks to himself. He's never been engaged, but he can only imagine that doubt towards the person you promised forever to wasn't a joyful experience. A quick Google search earlier had advised Kagami what he had already suspected: talking it out seemed to be a decent remedy for pre-wedding jitters. And it seems like Tatsuya was already onto this theory, seeking out Kagami for help the way he has. He looks close to bursting, the weight of keeping his anxiety to himself heavy and stifling.

Kagami keeps his hand firm on Tatsuya's shoulder in a way he hopes feels reassuring, straightens his back and tries to look like he knows what he’s doing. “Look, Tatsuya. Cold feet isn’t something to be ashamed of. A lot of people go through it, it’s totally normal. I know you’ll be fine - " He stops when Tatsuya grabs onto his wrist still on his shoulder, shaking his head. “No. Taiga. That’s not…what I mean,” he whispers, and Kagami feels slightly panicky himself when he feels how cold and clammy Tatsuya’s hand is, his fingers trembling. This behavior is so unlike him that everything feels somewhat distorted from reality. 

Kagami furrows his brows. "Are you and Murasakibara having problems? D'you want me to talk to him for you? I mean, if you're absolutely sure, you don't  _have_ to marry him. Everyone would understand - "

"Atsushi and I are fine!" Tatsuya says, voice shrill, and Kagami drops his arm, stunned. Some of the tension of Tatsuya's body immediately dissipates, and he reaches up to touch the area where Kagami's hand had been, the action seemingly unconscious. “I just needed to tell you before I got married,” Tatusya continues, nodding desperately almost as if to himself, to build himself up to what he has to say. Kagami licks his lips nervously. “Uh…okay? What did you have to tell me?”

Tatsuya flinches; he takes a step back, rocking back onto his heels. He closes his eyes. “I…growing up…” he pauses, his lip curling, eyes still closed. Kagami waits uneasily. He opens his mouth, hesitates for another half-second, and then all in a rush he blurts, “ _Growing up, I was in love with you_.” 

As soon as he says it, he opens his eyes, his mouth growing slack with horror at what just came from his own lips. Kagami’s knees suddenly feel weak - he reaches behind him for the bathroom sink so they won’t buckle. “ _What?_ ”

Tatsuya closes the step he had taken away, holding his hands up pleadingly. “Don’t freak out, please. _Please_. Just…it was when we were kids. And…and in high school. And a little after. Um.” He breathes in, trembling.

No, that was impossible -  _impossible!_ There was just no _way_. Was Kagami misinterpreting this? Tatsuya wasn't like him; he was looser with his tongue, more in tune with his emotions. Tatsuya's said he's loved Kagami before - maybe this wasn't any different. But what else could " _I was in love with_ _you"_ possibly mean? And the way he said it - like he was bracing himself for a punch to the jaw at any moment - that wasn't the way he had said it in the past, like Kagami was his best friend, like he was something to treasure. Still, he could have never, not in a million years, foreseen this. Tatsuya had never given any hints, never mentioned  _anything -_ they were touchy as children simply because they were so close, and Kagami had liked to rough-house - if Tatsuya's affection had been anything other than platonic, there was no way of Kagami distinguishing it from their regular interactions.

So how long? How long had this been going on? The  _entire time?_ He made it sound like it had been  _at least_ ten years, if not more, and -  _oh. He must have been in a lot of pain._

“Why are you telling me this  _now_?” Kagami whispers.

Tatsuya grabs onto his hair, and Kagami dully mourns the lost perfection. “I just…it’s been making me feel so _guilty_. Like I was keeping some dirty secret from you. Since I know that you never once saw me as anything other than family,” he says loudly, like he just rediscovered his voice. He turns away to begin pacing agitatedly in front of the bathroom door.  “And…and then even after I met Atsushi, a really, really small part of myself was scared that I still…that I still…” he gestures helplessly. “And I hoped that after I saw you again, after those three years, that I would know once and for all.”

Kagami's eyes open wide, his throat impossibly dry. Tatsuya hadn't spoken to him for so long...on _purpose?_ So that he could more easily move on? Even when the door swung both ways, he had never even considered that their separation had been anything other than the two of them being too busy with their individual lives to keep in touch. He also thinks back those months ago; opening the door of his home, seeing this man that was, for all intents and purposes, his brother. He visualizes the same thing through Tatsuya’s eyes - the door opening, eyes flicking up and seeing a brother, but also seeing something more. Tatsuya was right in that Kagami had never thought of him as anything but family. Someone he would gladly lay down his life for, someone he could see a part of his life for the unforeseeable future. Someone indescribably important to him.

Someone he couldn't lose. 

“And…?” Kagami is terrified of the answer.

Tatsuya nearly smiles, seems to sense Kagami’s impending hysteria. “And I was right. There’s…that’s gone. Don’t worry.” He waves his hand almost flippantly. “Atsushi’s the only one for me, and I love him dearly,” he says, his brows dipping with what Kagami assumes is guilt. “But I just couldn’t hide that from you anymore. It was eating me up inside. I wanted to get married having a clean slate.” He seems to deflate, biting into his raw lips. “I just…I just didn’t want you to think any less of me,” he adds quietly, averting his eyes. 

Kagami freezes. “You thought that I’d actually…?” He swallows, shakes his head. “Does Murasakibara…?”

Tatsuya nods, his hands leaving his ruined hair to hang at his sides. “He already knows. It’s how we got to be so close. He was the only one I was willing to spill my guts to." Smiling sadly, he fists his hands into the fabric of his pants. "He listens so well." The smile disappears as quickly as it came, being replaced by something like a pained frown before he squares his shoulders. “I’m always going to love you, Taiga. And I’m truly sorry if this makes things awkward between us. I just…” He shrugs. “I had to tell you.”

He looks completely resigned with his situation - and, to Kagami's surprise, he doesn't look half as ghostly as he had a few minutes earlier. Even though the discomfort is flowing off him in waves, he still looks relieved beyond words to have finally said what he needed to out loud. “You’re an idiot,” Kagami mutters, lightly slaps the top of Tatsuya’s head - he lets his fingers linger there, patting him with an embarrassed scowl, and Tatsuya’s eyes widen in surprise. “I love you too, moron. Always have, and just because you used to have the hots for me doesn’t mean shit.” He grins, musses up Tatsuya’s hair up a bit more for good measure.

Tatsuya blinks up at him. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah. Kinda flattering,” Kagami says, scratching his chin, his cheeks red. He's actually pretty pleased that there wasn't debt or illness or cold feet involved. Just a little unrequited crush that ended a while ago. Just one conversation. Just a couple sentences that Tatsuya was holding in for too long. The solution was frankly a lot easier than he expected, and he's finally able to let go of at least _one_ of his worries. Now Tatsuya can get married without feeling like he's committing some great sin, even though Kagami never would have thought of it that way in the first place. 

“Oh.” Tatsuya swallows, and then Kagami’s swept up in one of his signature back-breaking hugs. “I’m so relieved,” he breathes.

Kagami chuckles. “You shouldn’t have been killing yourself over this. I wouldn’t have _disowned_ you. What kinda guy you take me for?" he teases, even though a small part of himself is actually fairly offended. What had he ever done to make Tatsuya feel like he couldn't trust him with his own feelings? It was ridiculous, and if he didn't have his own mountain of problems he would grill him about it in detail. 

Tatsuya smiles, abashed, and looks down at his feet. He doesn't release Kagami from his loose hug. "I'm sorry. It was foolish of me."

"You bet your skinny ass it was."

Tatsuya fondly pats Kagami on the cheek. "Ah, my little Tiger. So spunky. So lovable." 

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes, gently swats Tatsuya's hand from his face, and it falls again to rest on his shoulder. "Even though you're a brat, I love you." 

"I love you too, Tiger," Tatsuya says with a laugh, before abruptly peeking over Kagami's shoulder. "Hmm? I think we’re scaring people away from the bathroom.”

“They can deal. There’s one in the lobby.” 

Tatsuya slides his hands away from Kagami's shoulders and steps over to the bathroom door, swinging it open and looking down the hallway. He frowns. “Hey, Taiga, isn’t that your…?”

“My…?” Kagami joins him at the door, looking down the way he had come on his search - he sees someone walking away swiftly, too brisk not to be in a hurry. He squints. “Daiki…?”

And then Kagami’s blood runs cold, finally realizing the implications of this. What part of their conversation had Aomine heard? If he had only heard the ending, then - 

_Even though you're a brat, I love you._

_I love you too, Tiger._

"Oh, _no_." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha aren't misunderstandings just the worst? °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° but to make up for it next chapter I think will be the wedding!! which will be adorable and sappy!! 
> 
> and do y'all remember when Tatsuya first appeared i apologized for not making him the angst machine when everybody thought he would be? yeah well apparently i liED. and poor baby didn't even mean to ;__;  
> lol I actually kinda hate this chapter. I mean some parts are *okay* but..just..ugh. I'm pretty new to writing so I wanna thank you all for reading my stuff even when it's less than stellar. Thank you <3
> 
> hmmm besides that i don't have much to say since I updated so recently, so i'm just gonna end this with saying the title of the chapter comes from kina grannis' "in your arms" which is adorable.  
> *whispers* smileyeeyore.tumblr.com....do it...
> 
> EDIT: JFC IT'S OVER 100,000 WORDS OMFG WHAT DO I DOOO NOOOOO


	16. the two of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A million, billion, infinity more; as well as inappropriate betting, teary vows, unusual prenatal pigmentation, and dancing.

Growing up, Kagami's mother had been a fan of the saying "no use crying over spilled milk."  

Whether it was a crappy test grade or a bloody elbow, Kagami already knew what she'd say when he came to her with tears in his eyes. She loved him dearly, that much he knew - she was a dedicated mother but she wasn't someone who spoke delicately. She wanted him to grow up strong, a man who made mistakes and owned up to them. 

So maybe it was because it had been assimilated into his every cell, hearing those words repeatedly like a mantra, every time he made a mistake - but it was something he wholeheartedly believed in. If you weren't good enough the first time, suck it up. Crying about it wasn't gonna help anybody. What mattered was if you had the guts to try again. To try harder. Over and over. Eventually, you'll get it right. 

He wasn't perfect. He let himself mope. He still beat himself up over the stupid shit he did. But in his eyes, the important part was having the will to move on from that. To forgive yourself and have the strength to acknowledge that _yes, you fucked up. So what? Do it better this time._  And it was how he lived his life. It was an integral part of who he was a person. Keep trying. Keep pushing. It was what made him a strong athlete in the past - his stubborn drive that kept him plowing forward, a horse with blinders that kept him from seeing the "why not". 

But right now, the hallways blurring past him in a swirl of muted colors and dull footsteps, he can't imagine he'll ever be able to move on from this, if he doesn't find a way to set things right. 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit shit shit shit shit – Christ, has he always been this fast?_

Even though he had left the bathroom the moment he realized what had happened, sprinting down the hotel hallway after Aomine hadn’t resulted in anything but being out of breath and looking like a raving lunatic smack in the middle of the lobby, spinning wildly in circles and trying to catch a glimpse of dark blue hair. But he had _definitely_ seen Aomine come this way – had he gotten into an elevator and gone back to their room? Taken the stairs? No, if he was upset he wouldn’t go someplace he could be easily found. So then did he leave the hotel altogether?

Kagami’s head whips towards the front doors, and even though he doesn’t see any clues his instincts tell him that his hunch is correct – like a bloodhound, he takes off running, dodging people and not caring about the strange looks he gets.

Bursting out into the open air leaves him no more informed than he was a moment ago, but something in him refuses to let him believe he’s wrong. Now, the only question was where in the world he could have gone off to.

He takes a moment to calm himself down - his brain being all muddled wasn’t going to help him out here. The last time he had been looking for Aomine, Momoi had been the first option on the list of places to look. But she was either at the rehearsal dinner by now, or still helping Murasakibara’s sister with her dress. With Momoi out of the picture, then there weren’t that many options left. He knows that Aomine tended to hide himself outside when he wanted to be alone; he remembered Momoi telling him that he had liked to sleep outside on the school roof a lot in high school. Where was a nice place to lie down outside around here? But no, Aomine would be _angry._ Anger means pent-up frustration, the need to _move -_ basketball. He’d be wanting to play basketball.

_The park. The courts are at the park._

Kagami takes off running again, the back of his dress shirt soon becoming saturated with sweat. He strips off his jacket, tying the sleeves around his waist without slowing, and he tries to ignore the way his nice shoes are both rubbing against his feet uncomfortably and getting scuffed up on the sidewalk.

With the park soon in sight, he slows to a walk, his eyes darting around wildly. He focuses in on every shadow; checks behind every shrub for signs of life. Kagami approaches the play structure that he had spoken with Tatsuya on just hours earlier - a quick peek on the platforms and underneath the slide shows that it’s empty, like he thought it would be. A small bitter part of himself wishes that Tatsuya had the guts to tell him _then;_ if he had, none of this would have happened. Or maybe if he had just up and told his boyfriend how he felt a long time ago, he wouldn't be trying to track him down in a park on the night of his brother's rehearsal dinner.

Pushing the useless emotion away, he begins walking towards the basketball court on the other side of the park. Once he's close enough to see the area clearly, the nearby picnic tables and benches, he slows again. Stops.

Because it’s empty too.

Stumped, Kagami bites his lips anxiously. Was he wrong? Did Aomine end up going to an adult movie store? But even if he was upset, now really didn’t seem like the right time—

Just then, Kagami catches sight of a figure shadowed underneath the very oak tree that he had practiced walking down an imaginary aisle. He’s slumped against it, head leaned back against the bark, sitting on the grass with his legs spread out long in front of him.

_There you are._

He walks over quietly, his footsteps muffled on the grass, and he pushes his fingers through his sweaty bangs. Once he’s within earshot, he stops.

“Daiki,” Kagami calls softly, slightly out-of-breath, his chest feeling heavy and stomach sick. 

Aomine doesn’t look at him - he doesn’t seem surprised at all at having been followed. Instead, he squints across the field at the empty basketball courts. He frowns, looks back down at his fingers that are viciously ripping up grass blades. “I didn’t realize I didn’t have a ball until I already got here,” he explains, looking frustrated. He starts making a little pile of blades on his thigh. "But it's not so hot anymore, and the grass here is soft. So." He shrugs.

Kagami didn’t know what he expected. He expected tense accusations - at least, at first, until he had the opportunity to clear his name. Worst case scenario, he expected screaming and pointed fingers and maybe tears. But he definitely didn’t expect _this:_ Aomine, boneless against a tree, talking to Kagami like nothing even happened. At the most, he just sounds marginally disappointed, and it all just serves to make Kagami feel more uneasy. Why wasn’t he reacting? He’s obviously upset - he wouldn’t have run away if he wasn’t. And it wasn’t like him to keep his feelings to himself, either.

Aomine finally looks up at him, albeit tiredly, and his eyelids droop. “I just…I needed a minute to cool off. I’ll come back later.” And with that he turns away again, as if in his mind the conversation was already over and nothing more needed to be said.

Kagami takes a step forward, but stops when Aomine leans away from him, his relaxed posture growing slightly tense. The message is clear: _stay away_. But Kagami _can’t_ just leave it at that - Aomine might be acting nonchalant now, but if he’s left to stew in his anger for hours on end, by himself, who knows what conclusions he’ll come to? The record needs to be set straight before this situation gets more out of hand.

Kagami raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I swear, you misunderstood. I know it sounded bad, but you didn’t hear the whole - “

Aomine waves his hand, shifting a little to better situate his back against the bark. “I didn’t misunderstand. Don’t worry about it. I know you don’t love him that way. And he’s too head over heels for ‘Sakibara to see two inches in front of his own fuckin’ nose.”

Kagami had once watched a crime show that had focused on the ability of the lead investigator to detect lies from body language. But he doesn’t need to be a super-powered cop to know that Aomine’s not lying. _Which makes no sense at all._ “Then…then why…are you mad?” he asks, bewildered, not even trying to keep his voice from sounding utterly stupefied.

Aomine looks down again. “I’m not.”

“Is it ‘cause I said I loved him?”

His mouth twists sourly. “I didn’t say that was why. And I already said I’m not mad.”

Clarity suddenly dawns upon Kagami’s mind. “You don’t have to. You’re upset ‘cause I said it to him but I’ve never said it to you.”

Instantly, Kagami regrets having said his thoughts out loud – Aomine’s face scrunches with hurt, and he looks down and away. He purses his lips and blows air at his lap - the little green mountains he had been working on flutter away. Clapping his hands together to dislodge stubborn pieces of grass, he stands in on fluid motion, reaches behind himself to pat down any dirt sticking to his pants. He sighs, resting a hand on the back of his neck tiredly. “Taiga, I’m not…I’m not asking that from you, it’s fine, really. I’m not perfect, okay? Just give me some time to - “

Kagami takes a few steps forward against his better judgement, and has to force his legs from keeping him from getting too close. “Daiki…Daiki, c'mon, you _know._ You _have_ to - you already know that I lo - “

“Taiga,” Aomine says loudly, cutting him off, and Kagami finally catches the first note of underlying anger in his voice. “Don’t say that now. Please.”

“What? Why can’t tell you that I – “

“Seriously, _don’t_.” His jaw ticks.

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t mean shit when you’re standing here pitying me!” he yells, his composed mask chipping away completely in one fell swoop. 

Kagami’s jaw drops. _“Pitying you?”_

Aomine growls, frustrated. “Yeah! So sorry if I don’t wanna hear some half-assed confession five minutes after you say the same thing to somebody else!”

“But you _know_ it was different _– “_

“Yeah, I _know_ I know!” Aomine turns, nostrils flaring, and he kicks the nearby trash can – even though it’s embedded into the ground, Aomine’s shoe still makes an ear-splitting clang against the metal, and Kagami flinches. “But I don’t wanna hear that shit just cause you feel _bad_ for me!” His face now flushed red with anger, he breaks his own boundary rules and stalks over, steps fast and heavy. Just a foot away now, Aomine shoves a finger at Kagami’s chest. “Why the fuck do you never listen to me, huh? I ask for space and you pretend not to hear anything! You always gotta get up in my business and you always gotta have the last word!” he snarls, Kagami completely frozen with shock.

“I know I fucked up in the past and I’ve been trying to make it up to you and be good, but sometimes I’m just _pissed,_ okay? And I’m sorry I can’t always laugh shit off the way you want me to!” His eyes shining with angry tears, he turns to head back towards the tree. He braces his forearm against it, leans his head against it like a cushion, and he breathes in and out, slowly, trying to regain control.

Kagami’s breath hitches, trying so hard not to cry because Aomine’s _never_ yelled at him like this before. He knows, _knows_ that this is his fault; that he brought this mess upon himself and made it worse by rubbing salt in the wound. But that knowledge doesn’t keep his chest from flaring with pain, doesn’t keep his nails from digging half-moons into his palms.

He clears his throat, thick with unshed tears, and Aomine tilts his head just barely, enough to look at Kagami from the corners of his eyes, the anger set rigidly in the lines of his forehead, in the barely-concealed curl of his lips.

“I…I’m sorry. I never meant to…” He has to stop before a whimper crawls its way up his throat, and he looks away. He bites his bottom lip, his eyes closing to keep the wetness contained. Oh, he was _pathetic_. When it mattered most, he couldn’t get his mouth to work properly. Why can’t he think of the right thing to say? Why couldn’t he have just told the truth months ago? _I love you, I love you so much…_

Risking a glance up, a small, ugly noise forces its way out anyways when he sees the way Aomine’s looking at him – still angry, but his eyes have gone cold with disappointment and bitterness. He shakes his head, pushes off from the tree and begins walking across the grass, towards the bustle of the town. “I’ll be back later. Don’t stay up for me.”

Helpless, Kagami can only watch him go, rooted to the ground, desperate to chase after him again but knows that would only trigger another flare of anger.

Aomine abruptly looks over his shoulder, his eyes clear with a sudden realization. “Am…am I always going to be second best to you?” he asks, his low voice traveling poorly even in the quiet, and Kagami’s heart leaps painfully in his throat, choking him.

“Of course not!”

He shakes his head again. “Nevermind. Forget I asked. I’ll be back later.”

And he turns again, this time not looking back.

Kagami stands and watches him leave until he can’t see him anymore.

 

\---

 

It was one of those instances where he pictured the metaphorical puddle of milk all over the floor but let himself mope about it anyway.  

The rest of the rehearsal dinner goes by in a numb blur. He knows he eats, but for once he can’t enjoy the flavor. Everything tastes like cardboard to him, but eating takes his mind a fraction off of why he’s upset in the first place ( _What if he never comes back, what if I’ve ruined everything, what if he doesn’t love me anymore—)_ so he fills his stomach to make time pass faster.

Momoi had returned by the time he made it back to the ballroom, so he wasn’t completely alone. But she was a woman in high demand - most of Murasakibara’s relatives and friends knew her because of her involvement in their high school basketball team, so she was often whisked away to speak to her adoring fans. Kagami had stayed as long as he could stand it - he endured his own fair share of communication from people eager to get to know Tatsuya’s best man. But his heart obviously wasn’t in it, his head someplace else; eventually he had been left alone with his seven empty buffet plates to wallow in self-pity and despair.

He feels truly awful. Absolutely terrible. And it’s worse because he knows that he only feels a fraction of how bad Aomine must feel. Because Aomine had been _right_ \- if Kagami was in his shoes, he wouldn’t have wanted to hear that, either. No matter how much he wanted to, saying something with that much substance and value at a time like that didn’t mean anything. To Aomine, it would seem like it was nothing but damage control. Something to earn back his good graces. But had Kagami realized that too late.

And he got what he deserved. 

At eleven he had finally called it quits, told Tatsuya and Momoi that he was going to bed, and went back up to his hotel room. He methodically went through the process of getting ready for bed without being there mentally - to his dull surprise, he ends up successfully in his pajamas with brushed teeth and a washed face in bed by eleven thirty. Except.

He can’t sleep.

He rolls over onto his back, the clock on the bedside table an obnoxious red glow that seems to be taunting him as each minute passes. It was late. Aomine was on his own, in an unfamiliar city with a harried mind and a crappy sense of direction. What if he got lost? He couldn’t speak English for shit. What if he got into an accident? What if he got himself hurt? The possibilities knocked into each other like a swarm of insects in Kagami’s brain, leaving him rattled and jittery and unable to keep still for more than a few seconds. The hours creep by slowly, each new digit a chilling omen that makes Kagami more worried and anxious. On his side, he stares at the empty space on the bed that should be filled by a warm, sleeping body right now. Instead it’s cold; the sheets bare and wrinkled. He looks at Aomine’s pillow - he has to fight to keep himself from doing something embarrassing like stuffing his face against it just to catch his scent. He would come back. He said he would.

But LA was more dangerous than any city Aomine's ever been in - Japan was known for its low crime rate, and some parts of this town were places people shouldn't visit alone at night. What if he was unlucky enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time? What if their fight was the last conversation they ever had? The very thought has his throat clogging with something inexplicable. Maybe he should go look for him - being proactive always suited him best anyway, and this way he wouldn't have to toss and turn the rest of the night with worry. Just as he’s thinking about starting his search by taking a quick trip down to the police station to see if anyone had brought in an angry and lost Japanese man, he freezes as he hears the door lock click with a soft _beep_ \- in a flash, he’s rolled over again, his back to the door, and before he closes his eyes he glances at the clock - three AM.

It’s so late.

The door closes softly, and the bathroom light turns on, washing a pale shine into the pitch black of the room. Kagami can see it behind his closed eyelids, and he’s hyperaware of every sound - the toilet flushing, the water running from the faucet - and then the light turns off again, the ghost of its glow making the room seem even blacker than it was before.

Kagami stays quiet on his side, keeping his eyes closed and breathing deep and even. Faking sleep. The bed dips, soft rustling noises of the blankets being tugged around. The silence settles down again, painfully loud, and he waits. Either for sleep to come to him eventually or for Aomine to do something he doesn’t know – but then he hears Aomine swallow, the sound a clear precursor, and he braces himself.

“Are you awake?” Aomine whispers, so quietly Kagami had to strain his ears to hear him even in the dead silence.

“Mmm.”

“Uh, is that a yes?”

Kagami considers pretending that his earlier noise had been a sleep-induced grumble, but he decides against it. This is what he wanted, after all. Aomine was back, and speaking to him again. He had been so _worried._ “I guess so.”

“Okay.” A long hesitation. And then: “C’mere,” he mutters, pulling at Kagami’s hip, and without much resistance Kagami rolls over to immediately bury his face in Aomine’s chest. He fists his hands in Aomine’s loose sleeping shirt, and Aomine briefly leans down to press a kiss into Kagami’s bare shoulder.

“Where did you go?” Kagami murmurs, voice muffled against fabric, and the tips of Aomine’s fingers brush gently down his the back of his neck. He shivers.

“Nowhere in particular. I kinda just wandered around.”

“Oh.”

Pressing his face against him like this, Kagami can smell the faint tang of cigarette smoke on Aomine’s skin - had he gone to a bar? But he also smells like fast food and laundry detergent, something he wouldn’t expect to be as soothing as it is.

“Did you get lost?”

“Kinda. I ended up finding your old street again. Hung around for a while. But after that it took me like five hours to find my way back here,” he says with an awkward, self-conscious chuckle, and Kagami nods wordlessly.

They lapse back into tense silence, and Kagami can practically hear the gears turning in Aomine’s head. “Taiga…” he starts, then stops with a frustrated noise. “Ah, fuck. And here I promised Tetsu that I wasn’t gonna make you sad anymore.”

Kagami looks up at him, eyes tired. “When did you promise that?” he asks softly.

“A while ago,” Aomine admits. “I keep saying shit I know will make you sad,” he whispers, bringing his hand up and softly smoothing his thumb across Kagami’s cheekbone. He frowns, his eyes never leaving Kagami’s face. “Sorry. I’m the worst.”

Kagami shakes his head. “No, you’re not. It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine.”

“What you said. That I’ll always see you as second best. I wish you hadn’t said it,” he allows, and the very sentence feels poisonous on his tongue. Before Aomine can spew more self-deprecating crap he adds, “But it’s my fault, too. I’ve loved you for a really long time, Daiki,” he says, louder than their previous words, and wetness clogs his throat. His chin trembles. “How could I forget about that kind of thing?”

Aomine just looks at him wordlessly before reaching down and prying one of Kagami’s hands from his shirt; he slowly brings it to his mouth, his eyes never leaving Kagami’s, and he splays out the curled fingers, gently kisses the tip of each.

Kagami sighs. “I’ve made you wait for so long.”

Aomine considers him carefully. “And it was worth every damn second,” he mumbles against Kagami’s palm. When he smiles Kagami can feel it; sees the crinkle of his eyes even in the dark. “Can you say it one more time?” he asks, drops his hand only to grab at the other one and going through the same motions as before.

“I love you.”

The bright gleam of white teeth. “Again.”

Kagami smiles wetly. “I love you.”

“A little louder for the folks in the back.”

He laughs and raises his voice. “I love you. How many more times?”

“A million. A billion. Infinity more,” Aomine whispers, before leaning down again and kissing him, indulgent and slow. He slips his leg in between Kagami’s, bringing them closer together, and when he pulls away he tucks Kagami’s head underneath his chin. “For now that’s enough. But remember that I wanna hear it every day.”

Kagami grins, invisible to Aomine, but evident in the buoyancy of his voice. “I guess I could do that.”

_More than happy to._

And they curl up around each other, Kagami’s body finally growing still, and as he breathes in the smell of Aomine pressed up against his nose he allows himself to be forgiven. 

\---

 

Tatsuya and Murasakibara had decided to hold their wedding ceremony and reception at a winery. Half an hour out of the city and tucked into the countryside, the place was flooded with dry heat, but it was also glowing with the golden light of the late afternoon. Built on top of a hill, it was an old place, established more than a century ago; but the grounds were groomed neatly and they overlooked a stunning view of the valley. 

Kagami, Aomine, Kuroko and Kise arrived several hours earlier to help with setting up and to assist with dressing up the wedding party. Kise, who was a hair wizard (apparently, he had learned a lot from being a part-time model back when he was a teenager), went around room-to-room with a bag of combs and gel and hairspray to beautify everyone he came into contact with. Kagami had spent an hour and a half going around with Momoi and Aomine sprucing up the reception area; he had then helped Tatsuya get dressed before heading to an empty room to get dressed himself.

As he finishes shrugging on his jacket, Aomine slips in through the door. “Oh, look at you. Bein’ all pretty and junk,” Aomine says appreciatively, taking a quick predatory circle around Kagami and unabashedly checking out his ass.

Kagami rolls his eyes, tugs at his tie which is currently cutting off his air supply. “I think you mean ruggedly handsome,” he corrects, loosens the noose around his neck to where he doesn’t think lack of oxygen is a problem anymore.

“Yeah, yeah, that too,” Aomine allows, his lower lip jutting out childishly. “Seriously, you look really hot. Like I’m kinda having a minor crisis right now.”

Kagami looks down at himself: standard black tux, black bowtie, a single white carnation attached to the lapels. Kise had just left after doing his hair - it had taken a surprising amount of hair gel to get his hair to not stick out in the usual unruly spikes, and now it was pushed off his forehead and combed to the side, the way his mom used to make him wear it before school pictures.

“I look like I make a living doing other people’s taxes,” he grumbles, lifting his wrists to finish shoving the silver buttons on his cuffs into the impossibly tiny holes. Times like these he loathes having big hands; they were made for splaying out wide on a basketball, not for shoving thread through the eye of a needle. 

Aomine snorts. “Shut up, you look like James Bond or some shit. If you didn’t have to go do your best man stuff then you wouldn’t be leaving this room. If you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“I literally always know what you mean. It’s kinda hard not to.” He finally maneuvers the last button through, straightens out the lapels and smooths out a lone shoulder-wrinkle. He faces himself in the mirror mounted on the wall critically. “Okay, I need you to be totally honest. How do I l - “

“Hot. Really fucking hot. Ruggedly handsome, or whatever you said. You look like the human embodiment of a really awesome orgasm.”

Kagami swivels his head to look over his shoulder owlishly. “That’s…well. Wow. Okay. Thanks.” Blushing so hard it physically pains him, he looks Aomine up-and-down. “I guess you don’t look too bad either,” he comments, smirking, his blush somehow intensifying for a completely different reason other than embarrassment.

If he was being honest, Aomine looks sinfully good. Beyond good. Kagami has a thing for dress shirts, and he wants nothing more in the world than to slide his hands up under the jacket, feel the heat trapped there, run his hands down the smooth fabric over Aomine’s back. The color is a slate gray, crisp and tucked into pale khaki pants. The light colors contrast with the darkness of his skin, grown darker under the merciless summer sun, and the rich caramel color is breathtaking. It's obvious Momoi had more than a little say in the outfit, and if he remembered later he’d like to thank her; hopefully before he carnally stripped it off later in the evening.

Swiping his fingers one more time across his artfully crafted hair, he leaves the room with Aomine close on his heels. The hallways were all rustic cobblestone and dark woods, wine racks set up along the length periodically. The place doubled as a bed and breakfast for tourists who wanted to drink, sleep, and breathe wine-tasting; the wedding party had been granted complete access to several of the rooms for the night, which were being used as dressing rooms and a place to momentarily escape the outside inferno. The air conditioning which kept Kagami cool as he dressed unfortunately meant that walking outside packed twice a punch as usual; the blistering air makes him want to rip the jacket off his back and immediately jump into a snow drift. He wouldn’t say no to a cheap squirt bottle and fan combo either. But he’s not so spoiled that he’d rather sit inside than see what’s around him. And it just so happens to be so stunning that he’s more than happy to put up with the heat.

Right outside of the winery is a wide lawn, currently decorated with fairy lights and lanterns hanging from long pieces of cord attached to the various trees dotting the grass. Farther off into the small gathering of oaks is a pristine white gazebo, strung with more twinkling lights; the lawn is covered in white-clothed tables, already set up with silverware and dinner sets for the reception right after the wedding ceremony. Just at the edge of the lawn the clean, short-trimmed grass evolves into long yellow strands of its wild counterpart, an ocean of gold that overflows down the hill into the rows of the vineyard, a slope that stretches on for at least a mile, the trellises hung heavily with vines and growing bundles of red grapes. It reminds him of the little he’s seen of central Italy’s famous vineyards from photographs and movies, and the bucolic Tuscan-style winery that he was just inside helped complete the image.

The guests are for the most part all sitting in their seats on the lawn, some of the chairs spilling out into the golden grass. Tatsuya, Murasakibara and the officiant were going to be standing right in front where the slope begins, saying their vows in front of the vast rows bathed in the fading light of day. If Kagami were being honest with himself, everything looked like a fairytale. The very thought embarrasses him, but you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise.

Kagami holds the door open for Aomine ( _“Oh, such a gentleman, I’m swooning.”)_ and once he steps out, he mimics Kagami and immediately grimaces at the heat, and his hand shoots up to loosen his tie.

“Jesus. Now I know how those little hobbit guys felt on that volcano. What was that place called again?”

“Mordor?”

“Yeah. That. Dweeb.”

“You were the one who compared yourself to a hobbit,” Kagami says, fanning his face absentmindedly, and he spies Murasakibara standing on one side of the lawn with his siblings. He looks positively green.

This doesn’t escape Aomine’s notice either; he leans over to murmur in Kagami’s ear, his voice tainted with barely subdued laughter. “Whoa. ‘Sakibara looks like he’s about to blow a load.”

“You think he’s gonna be okay?”

A carefree shrug. “Yeah, he’ll get over it once he can stare lovingly into Himuro’s eyes. He’s sappy like that,” Aomine says, looking back at the winery door where Tatsuya’s just leaving with his parents. His mother kisses him on the cheek, and then immediately licks her thumb and attacks the lipstick mark she left behind. He shoos them both to go sit down among the guests.

They both look back in time to see Murasakibara in the middle of taking short, desperate breaths, near-hyperventilation. “That reminds me,” Aomine says thoughtfully, watching as Murasakibara’s sister urges her brother to breathe slowly and evenly. “Just a heads up, he’s probably gonna cry. So try to stay out of the splash zone when it happens.”

Kagami grins. “Tatsuya tears up during those animal shelter commercials on TV. He’s gonna be a _wreck_.”

“You wanna bet who cries first?”

“Imma bet ten on Tatsuya.”

“Aw, c’mon Taiga, _ten?_ Sounds to me like you’re not very confident,” Aomine taunts, taking a step to bring them closer together.

“ _Oh, but I am_ ,” Kagami purrs back, heavy-lidded, biting on his tongue with his front teeth and smiling in a way he knows makes Aomine tight in his pants.

He’s not disappointed. Aomine sucks in a breath, drops his voice even lower. “Do you wanna make the stakes more interesting?”

“How so?” Kagami breathes back.

“There are unused rooms on the second floor. Loser has to treat the winner to seven minutes in heaven, winner’s pick.”

“Seven minutes in heaven? Are we twelve?”

“Are you _chicken?”_

“No, but I can think of a few things better than that.”

Aomine’s eyes light up. “Like what?”

Kagami remembers his run from the other day - they weren’t home yet, but now seemed like as good a time as any to bring it up. This way, he wouldn’t have to make a big deal out of it, and maybe he could reduce his chances of coming off as a complete douche. 

He sidles up closer, his head tilted and chin tipped up. “How about you – “ And then a hand is suddenly thrust between their faces, smacking him on the nose - he hadn’t realized how close they had gotten, just centimeters away. He recoils, scowling.

“Okay, this is seriously gross. Aominecchi, come sit down before you get Kagamicchi pregnant.”

Kagami rubs his stinging nose and glares at Kise, whose own nose is turned up snobbishly with distaste.

Aomine has his hand cupped over his face, eyes watering. “Damn Kise, no need to get so jealous. But if you really want it that bad, maybe we can discuss a four-way?” he suggests innocently, and Kise’s lips curl with disgust.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not gonna try that kinda stuff with you again. No way in hell.” He shivers. “And I’m serious. Kagamicchi,” he points towards the rows of chairs, “I think the wedding party is starting to line up. And Momoicchi is giving you that _look.”_ Kagami’s head turns to follow Kise’s finger, and immediately cold chills roll down his back when his gaze meets the woman in question. Her look is heavy with unspoken threat, and he hastily smooths his hands down his suit for any imperfections.

“Okay, yeah, I better go. You guys go sit down,” he says, leans in and quickly pecks Aomine once on the lips.

Kise grabs onto Aomine’s wrist, pulling him away by force. “Knock ‘em dead. Remember that your role is absolutely _crucial_ ,” Aomine calls over his shoulder with relish, letting Kise tow him towards the light blue head saving their seats among the guests. Kagami has to force himself to remember that it would reflect badly on Tatsuya to flip off his boyfriend in public.

Instead, he walks across the grass to where Tatsuya’s standing - Fukui’s with him, as well as Momoi, who’s last-minute fussing with his suit.

“Ready?” he asks, clapping him on the shoulder, and Tatsuya smiles wanly.

“As I’ll ever be,” he admits, breathing out a hard gust of anxious air.

Kagami looks at him, eye to eye. “It’s my duty as best man to pump you up. Are you pumped?”

Tatsuya sighs. “Taiga, I’m not really - “

“I asked: _are you pumped?”_

He picks anxiously at his shirt sleeve. “I suppose so - “

“Nope. Not good enough. Tatsuya - “ he takes a deep breath, “ _You’re getting fucking married. Are you pumped?!”_ he whispers fiercely, and it must have been with too much enthusiasm, because the guests from the last few rows turn in their seats to frown at him. Tatsuya’s eyes widen, and he shushes him frantically.

“Yes, yes, I’m pumped! I’m so pumped! Just…be quiet!”

Kagami laughs, not bothering to keep his voice down this time. “Damn right you are! Okay! Momoi! Let’s do this!”

Momoi grimaces up at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she says, exasperated, and beckons the group from the other side of the lawn to join them at the mouth of the aisle. They line up by two’s - Kagami paired with Murasakibara’s sister, Eiko, and Okamura with Araki. It continues down until the end where Tatsuya stands next to Murasakibara. Since there was no real bride in this wedding, they had decided to forego most of the traditional wedding procession processes - the both of them would walk down the aisle. Together.

Momoi cues the DJ behind them to start the music. The sound of violins echo across the grass - it’s light and airy, the sound seeming to capture the feeling of sitting outside on a warm summer evening, the breeze feathery. And while it’s too hot for the full effect, Kagami still feels his heart swell as he takes a deep breath, links his arm with Eiko’s, and once Momoi gives them the signal, they begin walking.

He can feel everyone’s eyes on his face - he hopes he’s not sweating too much. He looks straight ahead, slows his gait to match the woman’s beside him (and even now, she seems reluctant). He chances a glance to the left and can’t help but grin when he sees his friends; Kuroko gives him a double thumbs-up, completely straight-faced, and Kise aims his camera phone at him while mouthing “ _Smile! Smile, Kagamicchi!”._ Aomine has his leg balanced over one knee, his arms crossed over his chest; he gives an encouraging nod, his smile soft and content and genuine.

Kagami and Eiko part once the rows of chairs end. He splits off to the left, while she heads for the right; picturing their makeshift setup at the park, Kagami plants himself somewhere to the left of the officiant. He straightens his back, tips his chin up, his hands clasped in front of him - perfect. _Right?_ He looks out across at Momoi for approval, and he’s graced with a proud grin before she becomes distracted once more.

Okamura comes next with Araki, and then Fukui with Wei Liu. They are followed by the rest of Murasakibara’s brothers - three of them, including the one Kagami recalls Aomine befriending once before (he thinks his name is Hiroshi, but he couldn’t say for sure).

And then the only ones left at the mouth of the aisle are the two grooms.

They walk pressed close together, Murasakibara’s arm tight around the back of Tatsuya’s shoulders, Tatsuya’s arm similarly wound around his fiancée’s waist. Their steps are slow and even, giving no hints as to Murasakibara’s evident nausea and Tatsuya’s anxiety.

The music reaches a soft, dwindling end as they reach the end of the aisle, their bodies drifting apart only to clasp onto each other’s hands in front of them. They face each other, Tatsuya’s face slightly tipped up, Murasakibara looking down - more silent communication, Kagami assumes, because from what he can see the tense line of Murasakibara’s shoulders slowly relaxes, and the furrows etched deep into Tatsuya’s forehead gradually smooth out until nothing remains but a sickeningly adoring look on his face.

The officiant is an older woman with streaks of gray in her dark hair; her face is soft and wrinkled in all the right places, her long flowing dress brushing the grass. She picks up a pair of spectacles hanging from a chain around her neck to perch them delicately on her nose. In one hand she holds a small piece of paperboard, in the other a microphone. She clears her throat, adjusts her glasses once more before bringing the microphone to her mouth, briefly glancing at the note card to begin the ceremony.

"Today is a celebration," she begins simply, smiling up at the two of them. "It's a celebration of commitment, of friendship, of family, of love. It's to celebrate two people who've decided that they're in this for the long haul, until the very end. And we're all here to see that." She gestures with both arms to the audience, nods to both sides at the split wedding party. "We're all here because we're proud of you, because we want to support you, because we love both of you. We want to share this memory with you - we want to be here as you begin writing your story together," she says, her voice broadcasted clearly to the guests from the speakers used to play the opening music.

"Whether fate was involved in the two of you meeting doesn't matter. It could have just been a matter of chance, of good luck. Falling in love with each other might not have been a conscious decision either. But _this_ \- right now, this is a choice. This is a choice the two of you have made, a promise to each other. You're promising that you're going to be there for it all. The good days, the bad days. You're promising to be there to laugh, to comfort, to support, to find happiness in each other. It's a promise saying that from now on, every experience you have, you want the other to be a part of it. 

"You might not have chosen to fall in love. But you _are_ choosing each other. Because he enhances you, because he makes you think, because he makes you smile, and because he makes every day brighter," she says, her arm holding the note card finally dropping by her side - she hadn't used it even once. She smiles up at the two of them. "Now, these two have made my job today incredibly easy; they've written their own vows, something that they want to share with you all. Atsushi-kun, if you would?" Seeming to have said her piece, she looks up expectantly and holds out the microphone, smiling with understanding as Murasakibara visibly struggles to gather the will to separate one of his hands from Tatsuya's. 

He takes the microphone in one hand, and by the way the skin of Tatsuya's fingers turn darker in the other he must be compensating by holding onto it with extra force. He wets his lips nervously. “Tatsuya,” he says carefully, like he’s not used to calling him by that name and doesn’t want to mess it up, “almost three years ago, I was sitting in Professor Gonzales’ Introduction to Law class. And I was eating a doughnut with strawberry jam in the middle, and it was really good,” he pauses as Tatsuya chokes on a laugh, and he smiles, for once not just a half-assed upturn of lips but a bright dopey thing of gleaming teeth.

“And then you sat next to me and asked me if you could have a bite of my doughnut, and I told you to go find your own or else. And you laughed and I remember thinking that it was a sound I wouldn’t mind hearing more often.” He takes a trembling breath, and the guests are dead-silent, the only other sound the far-off noise of sprinklers down in the vineyard. Kagami has never heard him speak so many words in a row before, and with so much feeling behind them; he finds that the low drawl of his voice is slightly hypnotic.

“And now I getta hear you laugh _every day,_ ” he warbles, seeming to have given up on any semblance of self-control just as rivulets start running down his cheeks, dripping down his trembling chin like a waterfall. _We’re going to need a mop._ Kagami has to bite his lip to keep his laugh in when he catches Aomine’s eye among the guests and is able to very clearly read his lips: “ _I win_ ,” he mouths, grinning widely. 

“I could not ask for a….b-better friend, partner, or h…husband. I promise to take care of you, no matter what, and I’ll share my food with you whenever you want. I am s-so happy a-and…nd… _ngh_ ,” he pauses, his throat working, and from where Kagami is standing he sees his eyebrows pulled together so tight he looks pained. Even though Kagami can’t see his face, he knows Tatsuya’s struggling, his shoulders hunched, and he sniffles quietly.

“And I love you. So much. And I’m gonna love you for the rest of my l-life. A-and whatever comes after.  _I swear_.” He brings their clasped hands up to his mouth to press a watery kiss across Tatsuya’s knuckles, and Kagami swears a collective gasp ripples through the guests; he himself feels like he just got punched in the gut, and looking out at the sea of people shows him that more than a few are pressing tissues against wet faces. Kise’s mouth is hanging open in wonderment, eyes swollen and awestruck, and Kuroko leans over to wipe at whatever’s leaking from his boyfriend’s nose.

The officiant beams, and once it seems Murasakibara has said his piece, she gently pries it out of his grip to offer it next to Tatsuya. The microphone catches a barely-audible whimper as he accepts it from her, and as soon as the guests settle down into background-sniffles he begins his part of their vows.

“Atsushi,” he starts, his voice a raspy wreck, and then, “ _Oh_ , I should have gone first,” he coughs up a weak laugh, almost as if to himself, and the guests chuckle along with him. He clears his throat several times, reaches up to wipe his eyes on his jacket sleeve with his free arm, their hands never separating. Murasakibara smiles, closed-lipped and wavering.

“Atsushi, I don’t even know where to start with you,” Tatsuya breathes, staring up with what Kagami knows is pure adoration. “I’m sure you know without me having to tell you, but of course I didn’t want a bite of your doughnut. I remember walking in, and seeing you sitting there. And for some reason something inside of me was telling me to talk to you. And I am so eternally grateful I did.

“You are so kind and have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. Even now, it feels like the rest of our lives isn’t going to be enough time,” he says, stepping closer, cradling Murasakibara’s hand against his chest. More tears roll down from Murasakibara’s red-rimmed eyes, and he grimaces, closes his eyes and nods.

“When you’re upset, when you’re angry, when you feel lost and need someone to speak to - I hope I can be that person for you. I would be _honored_ to be that person for you,” Tatsuya says, and Murasakibara continues to nod with his eyes closed.  “And when you’re happy, I want to be the person you share your happiness with. Because your smile lights up a room. And even if it doesn’t feel like enough time, all I know is that from now until the day I die I want to wake up every morning being suffocated by your bear hugs. I want to go to the convenient store at two AM for popsicles and I want to find purple hair in the shower drain.”

And then Murasakibara _laughs,_ a deep husky rumble saturated by his joyful tears, and the way Tatsuya's beaming up at him is evident in the way his voice sounds - like he's never seen something so beautiful as the person he sees in front of him at that very moment. 

“I love you more than I could possibly say, Atsushi. I look forward to the rest of our lives together.”

 

\---

 

“I’m never gonna recover from that. My poor shriveled Grinch heart can’t handle that much love in one sitting,” Kise groans, leaning heavily on Kuroko for support, and he accepts the wad of napkins that gets pressed into his hands. He blows his nose loudly.

“It was truly a beautiful ceremony. I was deeply touched,” Kuroko nods his agreement, takes Kise’s unused napkins from him and tucks them into his pocket for later.

“I’m gonna be shitting sugar for a week,” Aomine adds, and Kise wrinkles his nose.

“Ew, nobody asked you,” he says, then looks around at all the tables, lips pursed. “How are these organized, anyway?”

Kagami doesn’t notice any recognizable pattern with the seating - from what he can tell, family members and friends were grouped together, either chatting at their table or standing and mingling around it. A few had immediately gunned it for the dance floor the second the violins were replaced with upbeat dance music.  “I think you just gotta go around to all the empty ones and look for your names.”

Being part of the wedding party, Kagami had his own special seating arrangement with the grooms and the other party members. But he figures he has lots of time before he needs to start thinking about (i.e. having a nervous breakdown over) his speech, so he had joined his friends as soon as the guests were released to socialize before the reception dinner was served.

Kise nods. “Seems easy enough.” He looks over the lawn, the space twinkling even more now in the dimness of the evening, and his eyes settle on a place to the left of the dance floor. Immediately, his face cracks into a broad, slightly demonic grin. “Well I’ll be. Look who actually showed up,” he giggles with delight, hooking his arm with Kuroko’s and steering them away from the rows of chairs into the fray. Kagami follows without question, Aomine beside him, and as they wade through the meandering guests the only thing on his mind is the way the cooling air is beginning to smell like roasted chicken.

“Taiga! Taiiiiiiga!”

Kagami stops, startled, and kicks himself out of his food-induced trance just as that familiar voice causes warmth to flood through his belly like a cup of hot chocolate. “Alex!”

He’s tackled, the wind nearly knocked out of him, and then his face is being stuffed into curled blonde hair, smelling like sweat and lilacs. He returns the crushing hug generously, his body seeming to melt into the person that molded his childhood. She pulls away breathlessly, her glasses slightly askew, and she shoves them back up her nose. She smiles hugely. “ _Hi, pumpkin! I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you so much!”_ she gushes, and his brain flips naturally from Japanese to English. _“Oh, you look so good. If I were a little younger and you were a little less gay I’d kiss you right now!”_

He smiles wryly. “ _That’s never stopped you before. But it’s good to see you too. How’s Randy?”_

She grins knowingly. _“Ah, yeah, your favorite person in the world, right?”_ she teases, and he blushes. 

_“I already apologized…!”_

She shoves at him playfully.  _“I’m just teasing you, sport. He’s doing good - he got surgery a few months back; screwed up a rotator cuff. But he’s been doing physical therapy and is almost back to normal._ By the way, who’s this tall glass of water, hmm? Yum _,”_ she smacks her lips to accentuate her words, redirecting her attention to Aomine, who’s standing next to Kagami looking totally clueless. When he realizes he can finally understand what she’s saying his eyes widen; and then he has trouble hiding his flattered grin.

Kagami rolls his eyes. “Don’t inflate his ego. It’s already bigger than he knows what to do with. But this is Aomine Daiki. Daiki, this is Alex Garcia, my old mentor and pseudo-mom.”

Aomine offers his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She takes it and shakes it up and down with great gusto. “Ahh, yes, yes, the boyfriend! Nice to finally meet you too! Please continue treating my baby nicely,” she says, leaning up on tiptoes to loudly kiss Kagami on the cheek. He grimaces and wipes it off. She smiles up at both of them.

“Well, I’ll come find you boys again later. I left Randy by himself to come say hi and he doesn’t speak a lick of Japanese. Which is a bit of a problem ‘round here,” she laughs, reaching down to give Kagami's hand a quick squeeze before running off, her dress hiked up to avoid tripping, and Kagami notices that she’s bare-footed.

He finally glances over at the absence of Kise’s excited chattering, and he zeros in the table he had bee-lined for. There are two people already sitting there, their bodies angled towards each other in conversation, and as far as Kagami’s concerned, there is only one person in the world that has any business at this wedding reception while having hair that green.

He looks at Aomine from the corner of his eye. “So, that’s - “

Aomine nods, mildly sullen. “Yeah. Midorima Shintarou, the great killjoy himself.”

The both of them head over, and Kagami watches with mild amusement as Kise starts makes a big show of sneaking up on the two inhabitants, tiptoeing with great care and pressing his finger to his lips as he circles the table, apparently to catch them by surprise. Kuroko watches indifferently a few feet from the table, not having to camouflage himself as his lack of presence already disguises him nicely enough.

Kise swoops down, slings his arm across Midorima’s shoulders. “Why hello, little green bean. How are you? Is Akashicchi hiding underneath the table?”

He doesn’t even jump. Completely ignoring the greeting, Midorima narrows his eyes, removes Kise’s arm by the sleeve with his thumb and index finger, as if worried touching Kise’s skin will get him dirty. “I don’t see why he would be,” he replies stiffly, in stark contrast to the man smiling brightly next to him. He’s vaguely familiar, shiny black hair parted down the middle, slate gray eyes sharp and focused.

“Pull that tree outta your ass, Midorima. He was joking,” Aomine says, rolls his eyes and doesn’t ask before he secures the nearest chair and drags it out. Kagami notices that it’s Aomine’s assigned seat - clear as day, his name is printed out in loopy cursive on a paper nameplate on the tablecloth.

Aomine’s snark earns a loud laugh from the man with black hair, who claps his hands together in delight. “It’s so nice having other people around who aren’t afraid to call him out on being such a sour-puss! Oh, don’t make that face Shin-chan, you know I love you,” he teases, reaching out and ghosting his fingers across Midorima’s hand lightly before turning back to Kise. Kagami doesn’t fail to notice that Midorima’s visibly stiff shoulders relax slightly at the touch.

There’s a stuffed animal sitting on the table next to them, a frighteningly realistic portrayal of an opossum. Neither of the men pay the toy any mind, and neither do Kagami’s companions. Kagami eyes it warily, slightly concerned about what kind of person Midorima is if this kind of object is predicable enough not to cause alarm among his friends.

Regardless of his trepidation, he pulls the chair out next to Aomine - the place doesn’t belong to him, but to Momoi, but he figures he can steal it for the mean time; she’s probably busy fluttering around and basking in praise for her excellent work of coordinating this whole affair. 

“So is this the Kuroko-kun that I’ve heard so much about?” the black-haired man asks Kise, smiling at Kuroko amicably. Kise beams.

“Isn’t he adorable, Takao-kun? Doesn’t he look like a delicious blueberry snow cone?”

Kuroko looks to be on the verge of either blushing or forcibly removing Kise’s head from his shoulders, and Takao laughs. “Kise-kun, stop it! You’re embarrassing him!” More directly to Kuroko, he adds, “I’m sorry I’ve never been able to introduce myself at the club. Our schedules just have never lined up properly.” He shakes his head sadly. “I’m Takao Kazunari. It’s a pleasure.”

Kagami inwardly groans. _Another_ strip club employee? He holds onto the slim chance that Takao is simply a bartender or a waiter. But seeing him speak, watching his gestures - they looked like performance art; big and graceful and articulate. His personality fit the bill as well, just as bold and outgoing as Kise. And now that Kagami thinks about it, he tries picturing Takao in dim lighting. Maybe add a little bit of glitter and makeup, a corset, some fishnet stockings, and… _there it is._

“You’re - !” Kagami starts, then clamps his teeth down on his tongue. But it’s too late. The man has already snapped his piercing gaze to Kagami, his grin knowing.

“Oh, I see I have a fan!” he says slyly, smirking and shooting an exaggerated wink at Kagami, who can’t keep himself from blushing to his roots at having been caught.

“That’s right! The beautiful, the unstoppable, the downright irresistible Hawk Eye!” he cries dramatically, pressing his hand to his chest with a flourish before he begins to laugh wildly. Takao then turns to his date, smugly propping his chin on a closed fist. “See, Shin-chan? See how popular I am? Kind of makes you want me _more_ , doesn’t it?” he croons, eyes heavy and unmistakably seductive. But Midorima clearly ignores him, just pats his mouth with his napkin before returning it to its primly folded position on his lap.

“Kazunari,” he says, seems to roll up all his disgust and contempt into this one word. Takao rolls his eyes, but purses his lips and changes the subject. He looks at Kuroko, then Kise and Aomine and back to Midorima, looking extremely interested.

“So did you guys take a pledge in high school to always have your hair dyed those colors? I’ve never known Shin-chan without green hair,” he says, reaching over and lifting a green lock from the side of Midorima’s head, the hair a shade nearly identical to a shamrock. Midorima scowls, slaps Takao’s hand away from his head, and Takao seems to find his reaction fascinating.

Midorima primly shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose with long, pale fingers. “As I’ve told you many times, Kazunari, my hair color is the result of - “

“Yeah, yeah. Can you believe this guy? He expects me to believe that because of _unusual prenatal pigmentation_ " - even to Kagami, the impression Takao does of his partner is spot on, resonance deep and vaguely ticked-off, and Kagami sees Kise slap a hand over his mouth to keep from giggling - “blah blah _science_ blah blah, he turned out like this.” He sighs. “I mean, it’s _green_.”

“Sorry, Takao. That information can’t be shared with mere mortals,” Aomine says with a smug grin, and Midorima shoots him a glare.

“Hmm? Is it?” Takao says glumly, sinking down in his chair. “You guys are no fun.”

Kagami vaguely notices that the energetic music has slowed down into something jazzy, still too fast to be worthy of a slow dance (that honor will go to the two grooms later in the evening) and no sooner has he made that observation does he get a whiff of flowery perfume in the wake of a small gust of wind. He looks up to find Honoka leering down at him, her dress iridescent and form-fitting, reminiscent of fish scales. She smiles.

“So how much do I gotta pay to get this hunk to dance with me, hm?” Honoka hums, her bottom lip between her teeth in what Kagami assumes is supposed to be tantalizing, but he can only blink dumbly. He looks to Aomine, the silent _what do I do_ obvious.

"Oi, Honoka. He's mine. Go find yourself your own boyfriend," Aomine sneers without much bite, and Honoka huffs. 

"But I wanna dance with  _yours,_ " she whines, and Aomine flicks his eyes down to assess Kagami's expression - it must not have been reason to put up a fight anymore, because after another moment of consideration he shrugs. “Whatever. Don’t let me keep you.”

Kagami furrows his brows, trying not to make his reluctance obvious. “Uh, are you sure you want _me?_ You do realize I’m the least qualified dancer out of everyone here.”

Her hand snakes down to latch onto his wrist, and she tugs, encouraging him to stand up. “See, but that’s why you’re the best choice! All these monkeys know how to do is grind. I can mold you into the perfect waltz man!” She turns to Aomine. “Daiki, you don’t _really_ mind if I steal his first dance, do you?”

Aomine frowns at her. “Fine. But just know I’m gonna be watching you.”

Honoka’s eyes become half-lidded. “Oh, an audience. Kinky.”

This time when she tugs at his wrist, Kagami lets her pull him up. The entire walk to the dance floor he grumbles under his breath, and he follows behind her miserably like a hog off to slaughter. Her shoes make loud _click click clicks_ on the wooden panels set up over the grass; he notices with even more misery that they are the only adults here now - the rest are Tatsuya’s little cousins, as well as other children he doesn’t recognize, and they hold hands as they jump around in circles off-beat to the music.

He faces Honoka with uncertainty; he never learned how to do any sort of dancing, and even when he tried it was never with a woman that only came up to his chest. His hands hover awkwardly, unsure where to put them, and she snatches them to guide him.

“Put your hands on my hips, you weenie. I’m not gonna jump you the second you touch me,” she says, forcibly setting his hands on her waist; she’s so tiny that his big hands take up more room than he’s comfortable with. He changes the subject.

“Do you really know how to waltz?”

She grins at him evilly. “Honey, I can waltz about as good as Daiki can bake cookies with his feet. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He sighs. _Of course._ “Honoka, why did you - “

She presses up against him then, standing on her tiptoes until her chin is resting on his shoulder, and even then she has to strain her neck to reach. She settles both hands on the back of his neck. “Oh, you should see him now. Looks like he wants to bite my head off,” she whispers as she looks over his shoulder. Barely holding back a laugh, she tilts her head and deliberately lets her lips brush his ear. He jerks back, and she cackles. “Holy shit, nothing makes me happier than pissing him off.”

His ears burn. “If you’re just gonna be like this, then - “

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious now, I promise.” She lowers herself back down onto the flats of her feet, slips one hand back to rest on his shoulder, the other on his opposite arm. “This vacation hasn’t exactly been nothin’ but rainbows and butterflies for me, either. I need stress relief.” She takes a step forward, making him take a step back; she then tugs him back forward, and they continue in an awkward back-and-forth motion that has really no resemblance of dancing. She shimmies her hips, this time purposefully making eyes at a clearly interested man at a nearby table.

Kagami groans. “Do you have business with me?” he asks, lets her lean her head against his chest even as every particle of his being wants to pull away. He might almost like her when she’s just talking, but having her hands all over him reminds him why he’s gay in the first place.

She snorts. “’Do you have business with me’. What are you, a drug lord?”

When he doesn’t reply, she lifts her head from his chest and looks up at him; her somber expression immediately catches his waning attention. “Kagami-kun, I know you probably trust me less than Daiki does. But I told him I’d look out for you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

His brows furrow, never having seeing her so serious before and not understanding what caused it. “What - "

“I’m gettin’ there. If my intel’s right - which it probably is - they’re gonna try talkin’ to you tonight.”

His eyes widen.

She nods. “Yeah. Keigo and Sayaka are two stubborn bitches, and for some reason they think tonight is a good time to talk. Now the reason I’m tellin’ you and not Mr. Shit-for-Brains is that I think the last thing this wedding needs is a brawl between a bald guy and his bad-tempered son.”

They’re not even moving now - not like they had been with much purpose before, but now they’re just staring at each other with Kagami’s hands still loosely on her hips, her hands lightly on his arms. “Do you know what they wanna talk about?” he asks warily.

“I’m guessing the usual bitching about how you’re ruining their son’s life, blah blah. To be honest, I don’t know. But they probably aren’t gonna go out of their way to be polite. So my advice: if you see them, run the other way.”

“ _Run the other away,”_ Kagami echoes blankly, his eyes roving over the many guests without really seeing anything. He doesn’t know how he’d react to seeing them, but looking back on his meeting with Aomine’s father (Honoka had mentioned his name was Keigo, right?) it does seem like running is his first instinct. But he doesn’t think he can do that here; there’s no where to hide, not unless he wants to squat behind a tree for the rest of the evening. Maybe he can cash in that bet with Aomine and hide out in the winery. He lost, after all…

He feels a hand against his cheek; startled, he looks down to find Honoka staring at him seriously. “Don’t freak out on me, now. I’m not tellin’ you you can’t have a good time tonight. There’s no guarantee it’ll turn into a shitshow,” she says, her hand dropping away from his face.

He frowns. “But it probably will. They’ll want us to break up, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And I’m not gonna do that. Which means they’ll get mad.”

Honoka blinks up at him, something like pleasant surprise illuminating her features. “You’re awfully fond of him, huh?”

Kagami looks away, embarrassed. “Understatement.”

“Oh, is it now? That’s adorable,” she croons, and heat blooms across his face - armed with a sarcastic comeback, he doesn't get a chance to retaliate before someone taps Honoka’s shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Aomine asks flatly; Honoka pulls away from Kagami without fuss.

“Aww, were you getting jealous? Afraid I was feelin’ up his fine ass?” she taunts, and Aomine curls his lip.

“Get outta here already,” he flicks her lightly on the forehead, and she smirks, her dress rippling like a mermaid below water.

“Atta boy. Fight for your man,” she flashes them both a peace sign before _click click click-_ ing away, and she tosses quickly over her shoulder, “I’ll catch y’all later, kay? Don’t miss me too much!”

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Aomine mutters, his eyes flicking up to meet Kagami’s; he looks shy, something Kagami hasn’t seen in a long time. It’s unfairly cute.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” Aomine asks quietly, offering up his hand; Kagami takes it, albeit warily. He takes a step closer. During his talk with Honoka the song had changed again - this one is all blaring trumpets and hammering piano. Whatever it is, it sounds really old.

He looks at their joined hands awkwardly. “We can’t be the first to slow dance, though. I think that’s against the rules.”

Aomine shrugs, tugging him closer. “We’re not gonna slow dance. We can foxtrot. Or swing. Something spunky.”

Kagami looks at him, wide-eyed. “I…I dunno know how to do any of that.”

Aomine sets his free hand across the small of Kagami's back, pulling him so close their chests are a hairs'-width apart, nose-to-nose. He grins. “Hey, we’re in the same boat here. I’m no ballroom dancer." His lips twist, eyes looking down and away, again his expression something bashful and childlike, making Kagami's heart lurch painfully. "Just…I’ve seen this stuff in movies. I wanna try it." He looks up through his dark eyelashes hopefully. "I wanna dance with you.”

_Well, shit._

Completely powerless to even think of saying no, Kagami sighs and rests his hand on Aomine's shoulder, raising their clasped hands - uncertain of how to really begin, he does what should be obvious - he takes the first step. Aomine lets out a breath, tinged with relief, and he steps with him. Kagami would be content to just step in an easy square and save himself the embarrassment of actually trying to _dance_ \- but they agreed this couldn't be a slow dance. It had to be quick, had to match the frantic jive of the music. So he steps quicker with fast, broad steps; Aomine easily keeps up with him with his equally long legs, and he turns - they spin in a tight circle, Kagami looking down to make sure he doesn't tangle their feet, and Aomine butts their foreheads together. Their movement makes the nudge nearly jarring, and Kagami briefly scowls before he looks up, questioning. 

"First rule of partner dancing, you can't look away from me," Aomine breathes, abruptly spinning them in the opposite direction. He pushes Kagami away, only as far as their arms allow, before pulling him back in just as quickly. Kagami can't help but laugh - they must look beyond stupid, but he adds a little hop to their movement just to see Aomine's responding smile. 

"I thought you said you didn't know how to do this," Kagami says, accusing but unable to keep the grin from his face. Trombone and saxophone blare in his ears, and he's vaguely aware of the kids on the dance floor scattering like scared mice as they try to avoid being trampled on. 

"I just know the important stuff. Like eye contact. And stuff like this - "

Aomine stuffs his hands underneath Kagami’s armpits - Kagami exhales, unable to even ask what he’s doing before he’s lifted clear into the air. Kagami squawks, braces his hands on Aomine’s forearms -  _I forgot how strong he is._ Aomine spins him around, smiling so wide it looks like his mouth is about to split, and Kagami laughs. This reminds him of the day they met - back when Aomine was just a bundle of tightly-packed pheromones, nothing more. Aomine had lifted him then too - but now the feeling is accompanied with blinding affection and laughter, instead of terror mixed with awkward attraction.

It’s amazing how things have changed.

Kagami kicks, narrowly missing Aomine’s knee. “Put me down, stupid!”

He does - so smoothly that the second Kagami’s feet touch the ground they’re off again, only to quickly go up in flames as Aomine trips over Kagami’s shoe. He catches himself, playing it off casually. He grins down at their mess of feet. “Looks like we’re doin’ pretty well so far, huh?”

“This's a total disaster!”

“A damn fine one too!” Aomine roars, his head tipping back as he laughs himself to near-tears, their dancing having been reduced to drunken-like stumbling as they mutually try to keep each other upright. But they twirl, and trip, and laugh - and Kagami looks around him as they go, at the whirl of faces - at his friends, watching them with delight (Kise for sure filming them for blackmailing purposes), at Tatsuya and his new brother-in-law, at Momoi letting the little girls coo over her beautiful dress, at Alex in the distance laughing that booming laugh of hers, flute of champagne in hand. The happiness inside him then wasn’t a feeling he could articulate with words.

Kagami doesn’t know what’s to come in the next few hours. And right now he doesn’t care. Twirling around with Aomine, the both of them stumbling over each other’s feet, laughing boisterously and trying not to knock over the little kids - this is what he cares about. 

This is something that’s worth fighting for.

Something that he wouldn’t trade, not for all of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I like writing Alex so much…can I just make this story about her life with Randy or something…she’s so cool…
> 
> Murasakibara and Himuro are canonically crybabies and I love it. Actually, scratch that. Everyone in this show is a crybaby and I LOVE IT.
> 
> I'm a sucker for 40's big band music. i just think it's so crazy romantic and so i indulgently made Kagami and Aomine dance to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYLbrZAko7E) song like dorks. sorry not sorry. 
> 
> *SCREECHES* IT'S ONLY BEEN A MONTH SINCE I UPDATED OH YIISSS GO ME! *SELF HIGH FIVE*  
> hmmmm so my summer vacation is winding to a close, which means once college starts again updates will prolly be back to how they were...i'm sorry...but! at least i didn't end on a cliffhanger? and...u guys...the story's almost done...there's only a few more chapters...omg...
> 
> anyways, thank you to everyone who reads this! If you've been there from the beginning or the middle or just started now, thank you so so so much for your support! I know I sound like a broken record but I can't say it enough! I adore each and every one of you, and your messages make me smile and blush like an idiot (even if I'm too busy and/or lazy to reply to all of them) so know that I love you! MWAH!  
> come visit my [tumblr](http://smileyeeyore.tumblr.com/) if you want anime reblogs as well as sporadic and useless updates about my life! or if you wanna chat which i am always game for


	17. picked a wishing weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of the present, a lot of the past.

In Kagami’s book, nausea has always been one of the absolute  _worst_  feelings. Unless you were chill with barfing, it was pretty much a set thing, until whatever was causing it passed on its own (and even then, sometimes the upchuck brought only temporary relief). As Kagami stands with a microphone clenched between his drenched-with-sweat hands, his left buttcheek jumping with a nervous twitch and bile rising up this throat, he contemplates the merits of just letting it all go and seeing where it takes him. Utter humiliation? Absolutely. But there was also possible relief from the completely _poisonous_ way his stomach feels right now. He's honestly having a hard time deciding if the cons of throwing up in front of all these people don't outweigh the pros. 

Hundreds of pairs of eyes bore into his face, most of them smiling with expectation and the leftover endorphins from dinner. Kagami himself still has a residual glow after watching Tatsuya and Murasakibara’s first dance together (and fuck if it hadn’t been the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he’s seen Kuroko wearing footie pajamas). But it turns out not to be enough to keep the lemon-basil chicken breasts from threatening to make a second-appearance.

(Because of course he ate more than he could count on his fingers and toes.  _Of course._ )

Maybe he should see a doctor about his overactive metabolism. Maybe if he didn’t need to eat so much, he wouldn’t be half as queasy as he was now. Or _maybe_ he should shift his attention from his irregular eating habits and try to focus on why he’s even standing here in the first place. 

He clears his throat, not remembering to pull the microphone away first, and he cringes as his phlegmy croaking reverberates out across the grass and reaches the ears of the sea of people staring at him. Oh, God.  _I can’t do this. I can’t do this._ Why can’t he do this? Didn’t he used to perform in front of huge audiences on a regular basis in high school? And this was really no different - he was sweating  _at least_ as much as he did during games, and he can feel Kuroko’s blank, heavy stare drilling holes into his face, that unforgettable faint tingle that he had long grown accustomed to. The only real difference is that he’s wearing a monkey suit and has this stupid microphone in his ( _sweaty, so freakin’ sweaty)_ hand. But, still -  _I think I’m going to die._ He glances over his shoulder at Tatsuya, whose pained thin-lipped smile tells him what he already knows.  _I can’t help you out here._ And then, with the small nod of his chin and the way his eyes soften,  _You can do it._

Kagami turns around again, this time his eyes frantically searching until they find deep blue - they soothe him, watching him with utter faith, and also a little bit of amusement. He forces down the urge to poke his tongue out, instead shuffling his feet and gripping the microphone more tightly.

In reality, only seconds have passed since Murasakibara’s drunken maid of honor had passed the damned thing off to him (her enthused, wildly passionate speech about her renewed faith in true love was…inspirational) but it feels like years, like the weathered lines of time have already ingrained themselves into his youthful skin. He takes another deep breath, more to reassure himself he’s still breathing than anything before he opens his mouth to speak. “Uh, hey, everybody,” he mumbles, (too quietly,  _damn it_ ) but this time he’s thinking clearly enough to turn his head as he coughs into his shoulder. His throat tickles, and he tries in vain to clear it.

“Th…Thanks for taking a sec away from the cake to listen,” he continues weakly, a small portion of his brain longing for the half-eaten piece he had left behind him at the wedding party table. “For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Tatsuya’s best man, Kagami,” he introduces himself half-heartedly. “If you’re a relative of Tatsuya’s, you probably recognize me from family barbecues, ‘cause I’ve been to a lot of ‘em. And before anybody wonders - no, we’re not related. But we might as well be, which is why I’m here today.”

Okay, so far so good -  _just keep things moving, don’t stop to think about what you’re doing, don’t think about the chicken —_

“I met Tatsuya when I was ten years old. I’ve known him for fifteen years now - longer than I’ve known anybody that isn’t family. Fifteen whole years, and I didn’t even know he could make a face like  _that,”_ he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, swiveling his head to look behind him and isn’t able to stifle his grin - Tatsuya jerks, his head whipping away from where he had undoubtedly been looking up at Murasakibara with a marshmallow-soft expression, and he smiles meekly. “...until he met ‘Sakibara. And that’s sayin’ something, ‘cause when we were thirteen Tatsuya had a thing for Jesse McCartney and even then he never got the goo-goo eyes like this.”

He hears Alex laughing maniacally somewhere at that, and he easily locates her among the center-most tables (a laugh like hers is hard to miss). She's red-faced, her hand cupped around her mouth. “Atsushi, he wants you and your beautiful soul!” she hollers, throwing her head back in tipsy hysterics. Randy quickly shushes her as everyone joins in her laughter, a couple of them leaning over from nearby tables for enthusiastic high-fives. Kagami rolls his eyes. 

“I never thought of Tatsuya as an unhappy guy, because he’s not. He’s always been happy, and most of the time he's too nice for his own good, and I guess I always kinda assumed those things had a limit. Like you could only be so happy before you just _couldn’t_ anymore  - you had to stop somewhere, right? I figured Tatsuya couldn’t. But you,” a smirk at Murasakibara, “proved me wrong. The guy’s walking on clouds, twenty-four seven. It’s pretty gross,” he teases, and Tatsuya’s cheeks glow, grinning stupidly. Murasakibara ducks his head, his pulled-back hair unable to act as a curtain and hide the brilliant red of his face.

“Anyways, what I’m gettin’ at is that Murasakibara - you’re special. Tatsuya obviously loves you more than anything in the whole world, so thank you for making him so damn happy. And I wish you only the best - because that’s what my brother deserves. And Murasakibara - you’re family now, too. You better get used to it. Cheers, to Tatsuya and Atsushi!” Kagami raises his glass of champagne to the darkened sky, a chorus of “Cheers!” getting shouted back at him as everyone clinks their glasses together before taking a healthy gulp. Kagami himself downs the whole glass at once, his hand shaking with residual nerves, and he sets it back down on the table heavier than he should, the crystal thudding dangerously.

A few quick, Bambi-legged strides finds him on the safe side of the table again. His heart is beating painfully all the way to his fingertips, and his cheeks burn so badly it's a dull ache. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Kagami breathes, slumping bonelessly back down in his seat, eyes wide. He can now say it safely: he has  _seen_ some shit. He’s going to have traumatic flashbacks now, for  _years._ Kagami finds himself with the irrational and rather cruel hope that Kuroko and Kise break up so that he never has to make a speech again - because he already knows who Kuroko will want as  _his_ best man. He never thought he’d be lamenting the day he found himself with too many close friends.

A warm hand discreetly pats him on the small of his back. “You did wonderfully,” Tatsuya whispers, leaning in close so as to not be overheard.

Kagami shakes his head numbly. He feels...he feels delirious, the relief of having gotten it over and done with dizzying. It's a misplaced euphoria caused by excess nerves and adrenaline, he knows, but he still feels like he could jump from here to the moon and back. “I…I completely blacked out," he answers honestly - he knows he  _spoke,_ but what did he say exactly? He could have just delivered a monologue about the virtues of extreme couponing for all he knew. "What just happened? I didn’t say anything weird, did I?”

Tatsuya chuckles. “No, Taiga, stop worrying. You did your job - my mom’s crying. It was a successful speech.” There is indeed a muffled wailing from somewhere off in the distance, and Kagami reaches for Tatsuya’s half-full glass of champagne.

“Not too sappy?” he asks, raising the flute to his lips and swigging it down, not caring about trying to look dainty about it. As the last of the bubbly fluid slides down his throat, he smacks his lips, holding down the consequent burp he feels in his throat.

“Just the right amount,” Tatsuya soothes him. He tugs the empty glass out of Kagami’s hand, nudges his shoulder with his own. “I know you’re still anxious - "  _understatement " -_ so before my uncle can get the microphone and scar us all for life, slip back over to your friends’ table. No one will care.”

Kagami looks up, spying drunk Uncle Taishi wobbling his way over to the wedding party table, a determined look set to his flushed face. Glancing over at his friends, he notes that there seems to be an empty chair at an adjacent table - maybe no one would mind if he snatched it…

Tatsuya pushes at him gently. “Go, go, it’s fine, I promise. You’ve done more than enough.” 

Hastily shoving back his chair, Kagami wipes the leftover droplets of champagne from his lips onto the sleeve of his tux, reminding himself too late that that probably wasn’t a good idea, it being a rental and all. “I honestly think you might be an angel.” Uncle Taishi is closing in on his prey, his glazed eyes becoming sharp and hawk-like as they zero-in on the microphone lying on the table in front of Kagami’s dishes. As traditional ruiner of family get-togethers, he evidently couldn't let this opportunity to embarrass everyone present go to waste. 

Tatsuya smiles. “Go give Kuroko-kun a big hug from me. And give Aomine-kun a kiss - and, erm, that one  _won’t_ be from me, but you should do it regardless.”

Laughing, Kagami stands. “Okay, I’m gonna run. Let me know if you need me!” he tells Tatsuya, swiftly averting his eyes and dashing away just as Uncle Taishi falls upon the mike. He's definitely too sober to be dealing with him at the moment - one could only experience the man so many times before coming the conclusion that he wasn’t meant to both drink and be around other human beings simultaneously.

He completely tunes out the loud voice suddenly broadcasted (and so does everyone else) as he’s welcome back to the Table of Miracles with open arms.

“See? He didn’t throw up,” Takao hisses across to Kise, unbearably smug. He offers up his open palm, fingers curling greedily.

Kise makes a high, reedy whine. “And I was just so  _sure…”_

“ _I_ didn’t think you'd puke!” Aomine pipes up, like he thinks he deserves some sort of medal for it. Kagami rolls his eyes, snatching the empty nearby chair - when no one complains, he drags it over to settle it between Aomine and Momoi’s. He heavily sets his head on the table, groaning lowly, and someone starts rubbing his back in soothing circles between his shoulder blades - probably Momoi. “Well, at least that makes one of us. I would have put my money with Kise. I was  _this_ close.”

Kuroko speaks through a mouthful of cake, white frosting smeared across his upper lip. “Kagami-kun, I filmed the whole thing. In case you watched to watch yourself later.” As soon as he’s finished speaking, Kise turns his head and swoops down for a kiss. When he pulls away the frosting’s gone, and Kuroko’s making that slightly constipated face that pops up whenever he’s trying not to blush. Kise licks his lips, smiling. 

“I would literally rather do anything but that," Kagami groans. 

Midorima snorts. “I find that highly improbable. In fact, I believe that your careless use of the word ‘literally’ - “

“Midorima, shut your trap. Hey, Takao. I thought you’d have taught him social skills by now.”

“Dai-chan, don’t be  _mean -_ “

Takao slams his hands down on the table. “Hey now, I’m not a miracle worker! And I’ll have you know he’s made real progress!”

“In what world? You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause he’s the only one who wants to suck your -  " and Momoi slaps a hand over Aomine’s mouth with so much force the resounding smack makes everyone else flinch. Under her fingers, a distinct hand-shaped red mark blooms across Aomine’s skin, and he glowers.

Kagami tunes them out just as the yelling match begins on either side of him, and he returns his focus to trying to calm his anxiety. There’s a very light cloud of champagne hovering at the edge of his consciousness, just daring him to have another glass. He doesn’t get the opportunity to drink much, and even rarer the opportunity to drink something that’s not under five hundred yen from a cheap liquor store. He licks his lips, eyeing the full flute in front of Kuroko - the guy refuses to touch anything not completely saturated in fruit syrup and maraschino cherries. His hands twitch - that speech really took a lot out of him, and if he doesn’t get a little more loosened up soon his table’s obnoxious chatter is going to give him a headache. The decision-making scale tipping over in favor of the little devil on his shoulder, his fingers reach out to grasp at the glass stem; before he can get a good hold, a very small hand clamps down around his own.

 _“It’s hide-and-seek time, lover boy. Get a move on,”_ a voice hisses, and the moment Kagami turns around, the tail-end of Honoka is disappearing behind a clump of people, tossing a warning look over her shoulder.

_Huh…?_

Kagami gapes, his mind a little slow on the uptake, and then all the blood drains from his face, making him feel as sick as he did just moments ago. Because he  _sees_ them - for the first time that night, he sees them - Keigo and Sayaka, picking their way towards them, Sayaka’s hand on her husband’s arm. They stare directly at him, gazes burning, and he stares right back - mouth gaping like a fish out of water, and feeling just as deprived of oxygen. He flounders, feeling torn in two. Half of his body wants to run, the other half feeling like he needs to stay here, to protect Aomine (from what exactly, he doesn't know). But he hears Honoka’s voice echoing faintly in his head, “ _The last thing this wedding needs is a brawl between a bald guy and his bad-tempered son.”_

And Kagami doesn’t doubt Honoka, in that sense, for a moment. He's about as good at fortune telling as the next person (not very good), but he can foresee a fast-approaching catastrophe when one was this obvious. He _knows_  Aomine - knows how his mind works, how his slightly (very) childish personality just makes him that much more prone to having explosions of anger. And if he sees them - if he speaks to them, listens to what they have to say (nothing good), then he won’t stand for that. It would be a screaming match, in the very least - worst case scenario, there’s a  _fight_. Either way, they would attract unwanted attention, embarrass the grooms, put a damper on the wedding - all things Kagami can’t let happen. As the best man, as a friend, as Aomine’s partner - he  _can’t_  let that happen.

He stands quickly, stomach churning. Aomine tips his head to look up at him, mouth still curled in a lingering grin that slowly smooths out before turning down with a frown. He reaches out, touching Kagami’s hip. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

Kagami swallows dryly, trying very hard not to look over and draw attention to the people coming nearer. He needs to leave, and quick. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m…fine. I just. Gotta use the bathroom.” The  _bathroom?_  Of all the possible excuses (“I think Tatsuya wants me again.” “Alex wanted me to come find her.” “I forgot something in the dressing room.”) why did he pick the  _bathroom?_ He had  _just_ gone - to take a piss and splash his face with water before his moment of doom, and Aomine had gone with him, to lean against the wall beside his urinal and talk about random crap as means of distraction. And Aomine obviously remembers this, as his eyes narrow.

“You’ve been peeing an awful lot lately. Maybe you should get that checked out.” He cocks his head to the side. “You need a bathroom buddy?”

_Thank God._

Kagami shakes his head.  “No, I’m fine. I’ll be back in a second.”

He doesn’t turn back to see what kind of face Aomine’s making as he flees from him; he makes brief eye contact with Sayaka (those  _eyes,_ the shape and the darkness so hauntingly familiar, but so out of place - ), not even daring to look at Keigo, before his feet chose a random direction and start a brisk pace. He feels smiles at his face, warm praise spilling from tipsy lips and sweaty hands patting at him as he passes - but he can’t muster up the energy to return the sentiments. Instead he focuses on walking, his shoes making soft  _swish swish_ noises as they pass through the short grass, and when he finds himself again at the door of the winery he doesn’t hesitate before reaching for the handle.

 

 

 

**Tokyo, 8 years ago**

 

“You have a type,” Honoka informs him earnestly, her face cast mostly in shadow. It’s winter and there’s no way the owner of this place can afford heating, but the room is so packed with dancing, sweaty bodies that it’s a fucking sauna. Aomine smears the sweat gathering in the hollow of his throat with the back of his hand, wiping it off on his jeans.

“What type is that?” he asks sardonically, to humor her. She’s the one that got him into this party in the first place; and a _college_ party, no less. There's alcohol and he's tall enough that no one asks questions, not that they would either way. So even though he's not thrilled about hanging out with her without Satsuki as a buffer, the least he can do is let her yap at him while they’re here. She’s mostly been fluttering around the whole night, slutting it up like usual, but she’s been sparing a moment or two here and there to find him, to back him into a corner and shove her tongue in his mouth before running off again. Generous as always.

He absently studies the murky brown liquid in his red cup—it takes like piss, and for all he knows it might be. But he’s on his sixth cup, and he’s starting to feel a buzz. Satsuki would _kill_ him if she knew he was here, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Though, if he's being honest with himself, he knows that there's no way she won't be fully aware of his activities by morning. She's creepy that way. 

Honoka’s already drunk—cheeks red and eyes glassy, but it’s something she’s used to dealing with, so the effects are easy for her to fight off. She leans into him, hair plastered to her temples. Her eyelids droop as she looks up at him. “Tall and rough around the edges. This one’s a real fighter, I can tell you that much.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. Him,” she nods.

Aomine dispassionately looks over to the drinks table. The guy’s…not bad looking. Tall, like Honoka said. Hair braided in rows close to his head. He’s picking through the meager food available with his fingers, licking them in-between—a real asshole-move, if Aomine says so himself.

“Haizaki Shougo. That’s his name.”

“Huh.” His eyes dart down—nice ass, too. Looks like he might have a lot of muscle.

She nudges him. “You think he’s cute, don’t you? I’m friends with his older brother. I can probably hook you two up. Interested?”

He tears his eyes away before he slings his arm across her shoulders, pulling the soft curve of her body against his own. “I’m not interested in long walks on the beach. You know that.”

She runs a hand across his chest, smirking. “I know. Little baby Daiki’s only interested in the quick fucks, right? He’s probably not much into hand-holding, either, for what it’s worth.”

“Hmm.”

The weight of them staring at him from across the room must have grown heavy, because Haizaki looks over his shoulder to stare back at them. He shoves a handful of pretzels into his mouth, eyebrow cocked and grinning through the food between his teeth. It’s gross, but he’s hot enough to get away with it, something he’s completely aware of. He licks the salt off his entire palm this time, and Aomine narrows his eyes. _Not bad._

“So?” Honoka prompts.

The room is dark and the music is loud and Haizaki’s _still_ got his tongue swiping across his fingers, and Aomine can’t think of a good reason why not.

“Yeah, okay. But I don’t need your help.” 

“That’s right. Remember what I taught you,” Honoka purrs, reaching up on her tiptoes to nip at his earlobe, just because she can, knowing the effect it has on him. Haizaki sees this and smiles.

“Don’t do that,” Aomine says, half-hearted, his belly starting to squirm.

“Sorry,” Honoka breathes. She steps away, and he misses the heat against his side. The alcohol is definitely starting to kick in—he wants her so bad he can barely stand it. “Just trying to help get the engine running. What would you do if you couldn’t get it up?”

Aomine looks across the room again. Haizaki still hasn’t averted his eyes, and the want inside him increases until he’s nearly salivating. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 

\---

 

Haizaki is wild, in every sense of the word.

When they fuck, the entire experience is a battle between them, to see who’s on top, to see who gets to pin the other down, who gets to come first. It’s a new adventure every time, and they never develop any habits. Aomine has to stay on his toes, not knowing what kind of mood Haizaki’s going to be in. Most of the time, the sex is hot and rough—sometimes so rough Aomine wakes up the next day with purpling bruises that are so sore it’s not even the pleasurable kind anymore. But sometimes, depending on the mood, depending on if both of them have had good days—sometimes it’s nearly sweet, and they’re slow enough to savor the touch of each other’s hands. But that’s a rare occasion, so he can’t get used to it.

Aomine knows Haizaki isn’t a good person, but he’s okay with it because he’s not a good person either. He hasn’t been, not for a long time. Satsuki tries to tell him differently, but there’s no way he can take her seriously; not when he looks into her bright, hopeful eyes and sees the exact opposite of the bleakness he sees reflected back at him in the mirror.

Haizaki lets him be as messed up as he wants and can’t judge because he’s just as screwed, if not more. Aomine can talk about what a joke his basketball team is, can bitch about his family and his life and Haizaki will laugh around the cigarette between his teeth, _haven’t you learned by now, Daiki? The world is fucked. Get used to it._

It doesn’t take very long for Aomine to fall into _something._ He doesn’t know what it is, but he knows he’s never felt like this before. He doesn’t get the warm fuzzies, the kind Satsuki enthuses about, but being around Haizaki calms him down. He’s able to forget, for a little while. He’s able to make himself feel better about his own life, hearing about Haizaki’s. Listening about the parents that do the kinds of things that are unspeakable—in the very least, Aomine’s never had to go to bed with a cheekbone blooming violet. At least his bruises are the kind that carry themselves in his chest, coating his lungs, painful but delivered with the relative softness that comes with speech. He’s got it easy, compared to Haizaki. Compared to Shougo.

He likes Shougo. He likes talking to him and he likes having sex with him. He tells him as much, and Shougo laughs, the sour plume of smoke blowing warmly into Aomine’s face as he does. But when he smiles, it’s not as sharp as it usually is. “Guess I’m your boy then, huh?”

 _Yours. Mine._ Aomine likes those words. He likes them a lot.

He never thought he’d turn into a long-walks-on-the-beach kind of guy. He still isn’t, but can’t say he would mind holding Shougo’s hand.

 

\---

 

Shougo’s hand is down his pants, and they’re in public and normally Aomine might feel a little bad about that. But it’s nearly ten o’clock and they’re purposefully standing in a puddle of shadow, so there’s no way anyone can see them. They had been fighting not five minutes earlier—Shougo’s a dick, and so is Aomine, so fighting is only natural—but the pent-up frustration had eventually exploded in the way of shoving each other into the fence, biting at throats and each trying to get the upper hand. Aomine had let Shougo win, this time; he can’t say he’s mad about it, not with the way Shougo’s working him roughly with his hand, grinning into Aomine’s neck. Aomine’s groaning, tugging at the ends of Shougo’s braids. Neither of them want to go home. They’re not perfect together; far from it. But it’s so much better than anything else he could be doing. It’s so much better than being alone, than feeling like he’s pushing his sadness upon Satsuki. It’s so much better than sitting in his room, daydreaming about what his life would be like, in an alternate timeline. He doesn’t want to go home. He wishes they could stay like this forever—

“ _Daiki?”_

The hand on him freezes and the groan he’d been smothering into Shougo’s shoulder breaks off into a gasp. He looks up, eyes wide and horrified, and the same eyes stare back at him. He realizes, belatedly, that it doesn’t matter that it’s dark outside when his voice is still so recognizable, especially to the woman who raised him.

“Mom.”

 

\---

 

It goes about as well as he expected. 

It wasn’t even one of those embarrassingly cliché  “ _it’s between him or us”_ ultimatums. It was a “ _it’s either him or you”._ Either he dumps Shougo, or Aomine gets the boot. It was between his own well-being and getting to be with Shougo. And it's a no-brainer. He’s still in high school—he’s never had any job but for the part-time lifeguard position he had at the public pool over the summer. He doesn't even know how to get above a C on a math test; there's no way he could navigate the perils of adulthood without preparation. He's considered running away and crashing in Satsuki's room until graduation (and Satsuki’s parents _do_ love him), but he can’t impose, not with their own daughter about to spread her wings and leave the nest.

So while it's something he  _desperately_ doesn't want to have to do, he's running out of options and desperate times call for desperate measures, or something like that. The final, last ditch effort is accompanied by a heavy, determined heart as he rings the doorbell, immediately wishing he hadn't. But he reminds himself that it's for the greater good, so he stays put until Honoka opens the door to find him alone on her doorstep. It's not a completely foreign picture, but with the absence of the always-present Satsuki she eyes him with reasonable suspicion. Regardless, she lets him inside, and the two of them have a stare-down in the front hallway, Aomine feeling awkward enough to crawl out of his skin and Honoka looking like she has about a million other things she'd rather be doing. 

"I need you to talk to them for me. They think the sun shines outta your ass. They respect what you have to say," is what Aomine eventually decides to go with. He thinks about that stupid stars-in-their-eyes look that his parents get whenever Honoka's name pops up in conversation, like she's actually contributed something worthwhile to this world other than a big mouth and nicely-shaped eyebrows. 

She frowns, squinting up at him like she can read his thoughts and is offended greatly by them. "I don't wanna get into some other family's drama," she says slowly, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. 

" _You're_ the one who told me about Shougo," Aomine argues, feeling the frustration build up in his chest. Why can't she see how hard even coming here was for him? Why can't she see that he's nearly begging, his pride in tatters, just so that he doesn't have to let go of the one person messed up enough to actually _like_ him? 

(He knows it's more than that, knows that his desperation goes so far beyond a high school crush - but that's something he can't face right now if he doesn't want to fall apart completely.)

Honoka scoffs, rolling her eyes heavenward. "So? And now all of a sudden it's  _my_ job to keep the romance alive?"

" _Honoka._ " The one word is sharp and laced with all the desperation he's been trying to keep bottled up. 

" _Daiki,"_ she snaps back just as fiercely, "Your mama caught you with the guy's hands down your pants like two feet from your front door. Even you have to admit that was pretty trashy. My parents would have done the same thing. It's not the end of the world."

Aomine's face feels hot and his throat's tight but he _refuses_ to acknowledge that his frustration is being manifested as something as fucking pathetic as  _crying._ "You  _know_ that's not why they're doing this! If I had been with  _you - "_

She looks away, ignoring the truth even when she _knows_ he's right, that if it had been _her,_ they wouldn't be facing him with the decision they are now. But she's not looking at him, and Aomine hates how all of a sudden he feels like a whiny kid tattling to a grown-up. She's shutting him down completely, when she knows what this will do to him. At least she has the decency to look mildly uncomfortable, crossing and uncrossing her arms in an awkward series of movements. "Sorry. I'm gonna have to pass on this one," she tells him, the final blow, and Aomine swallows down the last of his hope, leaving him resigned, and above all, bitter. 

He has no choice. He has to choose himself over Shougo. It's a no-brainer, but it still feels like his heart’s being ripped in two.

 

\---

 

“I’m coming with you,” Satsuki tells him stubbornly.

He shoves the entirety of his underwear drawer into a duffel, not looking at her when he shakes his head. “No, Satuski. I don’t even know where I’m going. You got a future. I don’t. Okay? I’m not gonna take that from you.”

“Dai-chan,” he looks at her then, and she smiles patiently. “You think I’m just going to let you run away without me? This is not up for discussion.”

He shakes his head again, slamming the drawer shut only to open the one below it—t-shirts. He needs to be a little pickier with choosing these. “Same here. You’re _not_ following me. Now get the fuck offa by back about it.” He closes his eyes immediately after, taking in a sharp breath because _shit,_ that came out a lot harsher than he meant for it to. But he doesn’t get an armful of notebooks thrown into his nose, this time. Satsuki just looks at him, her eyes swimming, and _damn it,_ he can’t _stand_ when she makes that face. He tugs her down onto his bed just as she starts crying in earnest, and he presses her face into his chest and lets her cry there, getting his shirt wet with tears and God knows what else.

“Dai-chan, I can’t leave you on your own. I c-can’t.” She’s sobbing, but trying to keep it down because, like it or not, Aomine’s still living with his parents. But that’s about to change—their high school graduation is tomorrow, and Aomine’s not going to be sticking around much longer after that.

(He hasn’t seen Shougo in weeks. The break-up had been bad—cursing and screaming and a whole lot of Aomine hating himself so much he swore he would never do this again. Never again.)

“I’ll help you with loans. I’ll do whatever I can, Daiki. Come to college with me.” Satsuki’s big doe eyes look up at him, and he lets himself smile a little.

“Sorry, Sattchan. You know I’m not cut out for school.”

Her lip wobbles, and her fingers clench around his shirt. “Don’t give me that. You just don’t want to try.” She looks down. “You’re just trying to make them angry.”

He tenses, his jaw working, his own hands curling into fists. “So what if I am? They think I’m a screw up? I’ll be the biggest screw up they’ve ever seen! I’ll make them wish I was never born!” he snarls, hugging Satsuki closer to him as he does.

She doesn’t say anything, just makes a low pained noise that sounds like she's dying. 

He tries to relax, sucking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. He closes his eyes, saying in a quieter voice: “I saw an online job posting for something in Sagamihara. I applied, and they want to meet with me. It’s nothing glamorous. But it’s not too far from here—you can come visit me anytime you want, okay? I’ll let you sleep in my bed, 'n I’ll cook you food ‘n everything. Just,” he pulls her face away from his shirt and rests their foreheads together, and Satsuki sniffles. “Please. Go to university. Put that humongous brain somewhere useful. You’re gonna change the world, Satsuki. Don’t let me drag you down.”

“ _Daiiiiiiiki_ ,” she wails, and he quickly presses her mouth into his shoulder. She continues that almost-scream, and he can feel the pain vibrate all the way down to his bones, her breath hot against the fabric. Her voice eventually cracks and her crying is reduced to normal heaves of her little body, and he runs his fingers through her long hair. He can’t remember a time that he didn’t treasure this girl more than anyone else in his life.

“You’re my b-best friend,” she mumbles, eventually, once she’s just hiccupping. Her eyes are red and bloodshot, and Aomine reaches over to his bedside table to get her a couple tissues. “You deserved so much better.”

He smushes the wad against her whole face, and she makes a soft noise of protest. “I have you, Satsuki. There’s no way I coulda done better than you.”

She levels him with a disbelieving stare over the wad of tissues pressed against her nose. She lowers them, slowly, and he can see the gears in her ridiculously intricate mind spinning like a bunch of tops. “Okay, Daiki. I’ll tell you what,” she rasps, her eyes never leaving his. “You know I got accepted into the University of Tokyo. I’ll graduate early, because I’m a genius. You’re going to get a job. Once I graduate, I’ll join you. I’m not giving up on you. We’re going to get through this, together. Understood?” Her sternness is diminished greatly by the wavering of her voice and the way she immediately blows her nose loudly after, but he nods anyway.  

“Fine. But you gotta _swear_ that you’re not gonna let any opportunities get past you on my account. You get the chance to live in a high-rise in Azabu? You fuckin’ _leap_ at it. Don’t think about it for a second. You got me?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He doesn’t believe her. 

After all, for whatever reason, he’s as much a treasure to her as she is to him.

 

\---

 

The dancing quickly becomes something he’s good at. He’s a physical person and things involving his body have always come easy to him. But like basketball, it’s something he’s _prodigal_ at. It goes beyond raw talent; he barely has to try, and soon he breezes past all his co-workers, shooting to the top. He becomes  _The Black Panther,_ sex in a physical form, and this persona is so natural to him at some point he forgets where the real him ends and this character begins.

The Black Panther is confident and has the world laying down at his feet, and rarely does a night go by that he doesn't make full use of his sex appeal. The club presents a part of Aomine he didn’t even know existed—the dancing, oddly enough, seems to be hotwired to his dick, which understandably leads to an innumerable amount of hookups. Every now and then he'll find someone he gets along well with and he'll keep them around for a while - someone to fuck and spend time with, but ultimately he knows they won’t last long. Nothing serious, just like he promised himself. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, but something inside of him is scared of what could happen.

(He hasn’t spoken to Keigo or Sayaka in so long.)

It only takes a few years for Satsuki to get a degree in business, like she said, and she joins him. He’s dismayed to find that not only does she apply to the _strip club,_ but that she secures a managerial position and is essentially his boss. But she gets paid more than he does by a substantial amount, and the organization at the club becomes seamless, a well-oiled machine. She also has a natural knack for performing; one night she fills in for the usual host, and she becomes so popular she's the one introducing him to the audience most nights. It's nice, being able to work with her like this. He hadn't exactly felt alone without her, but his life regains a certain amount of warmth that it had been lacking. 

Kise, funnily enough, pops up out of nowhere after six years of no contact. He doesn’t seem surprised at all to see Aomine in the staff room when he’s getting his tour of the building, and he waves at Satsuki—she waves back, all smiles, and Aomine can put two and two together that she must have helped him, somehow.

“Why the fuck is Kise here?” Aomine hisses to her, trying to straighten his goddamn thong so it doesn’t feel quite so much like a killer wedgie. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash, reaching over the counter for the baby oil. She squirts a liberal amount on his chest, and starts working it over his skin with her hands. He absentmindedly thinks that she’s probably the only woman in the world who could literally be smearing him in baby oil and his dick doesn’t even twitch.  

“He needed a new start. He’s been in Tokyo this whole time, working at a model. A couple TV commercials—you’ve probably seen them, right? But he said he’s been wanting to try out something different.”

“Does he even know how to dance?” Aomine asks wearily.

“No. But neither did you, and see where you are now! He’s a fast learner. It’ll be fine.”

He shrugs, reaching past her for his sweats. “If you say so. Is he as annoying as he used to be?”

She bonks him on the head with the baby oil bottle. “Oh, hush!”

And she’s right—Kise learns _fast._ Almost as fast as Aomine himself learned. He’s got a natural charisma that the customers go crazy for, and he seems to genuinely _enjoy_ it. Aomine likes it just fine, but he likes the job at the gardening center about as much— it was just a _job_. A chore. He tries not to let himself think about if he would enjoy doing anything different, because at this point it’s just not a possibility.

He’ll probably need to start thinking about moving on to something else once he’s hit thirty, but for now, he’s young enough that he can afford to pretend like everything’s fine.

 

 

\---

 

  
“Kurokocchi’s coming! Aominecchi, did you hear me? Kurokokocchi’s coming!”

Aomine blinks up at Kise, feeling like he should be wearing sunglasses, the way Kise’s whole being is lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wha? Tetsu is?”

Kise is illuminated, eyes sparkling, and he takes a few bounds around the room to burn off some of his exuberant energy. “He’s lived here for two years now! Can you believe it? Him and his roommate…Kageyama? Kagatora? I don’t remember—they live on the east side of town. Kurokocchi has his own blog! I took a look at it—the writing was a little too fancy for me—but of course it’s great! That’s Kurokocchi for you!”

Aomine doesn’t specifically remember Kise having such a ridiculous crush back in high school—if anything, Aomine himself had been closer to Tetsu. But, then again, Aomine thinks a little sadly—they could have grown close that last year, the year Aomine shut everyone else out. The last year when everything went to hell. And annoying as he is about it, Aomine can’t help but privately think that it’s cute how worked up Kise’s getting over his crush coming to visit him at work.

Aomine strips his shirt over his head, rifles through the rack of costume pieces for his favorite outfit—it’s comfortable, for a costume; baggy sweats and t-shirt, sneakers and a snapback. Nothing pinches at his ass and everything’s a breeze to shimmy out of.

“Is he coming tonight?” he asks, spinning the hat around his pointer finger, stooping down to look for his shoes below the rack.

Aomine doesn’t have to turn around to know Kise is bouncing in place—he can hear the _clop clop clop_ of his cowboy boots as they hit the cheap tile floor. “Yeah! I have to do my best tonight. I can’t disappoint him!” He sounds a little nervous though he's trying to cover it up by shouting at full volume, his energy seeming to make the air around him shimmer. 

Aomine straightens, slips out of his jeans and reaches for the hot pink joke that was his secret weapon - whoever ended up being his stage prop for the evening was in for one hell of a night. “You won’t. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and you won’t.”

 

\---

 

Aomine spots Tetsu sitting in the crowd the moment he steps on stage. His presence is still crappy as ever, but the difference is that he’s still glowing like a little blue lantern after the downright _nasty_ performance Kise just gave him. Kise can’t go around saying _Aomine’s_ the dirty one, not after a show like that. He can honestly say he’s a little proud.

He goes about his routine—he only has to do it with half a mind on his movements nowadays. The other half he uses to survey the crowd, to look for anyone that interests him. Right now there are two possibilities. A woman near the middle (he likes the way her black dress hugs her body in all the right places) and a man near the back on the left-hand side. He can’t see his face too well, but right now Aomine’s got a thing for blond hair (not Kise) and the thought of being able to pull on the light-colored strands later in the evening is inviting. He needs to get closer, to see if his face is nice enough, or if he should go for the woman instead.

He approaches her first. He grinds himself in her lap, and he reaches for her wrists—he sets her hands on his hard stomach, letting her feel the muscles there ripple. Right away he can tell—she’s his, if he wants her. It wouldn’t be a problem. Now, about the man— _damn,_ still not close enough. He’ll need to get closer.

Aomine leaves her, weaving himself through the tables to get closer to the left-hand side. He wishes that the lights weren’t so dim, because the guy's face is still too shadowed to see clearly. But then again, Tetsu might as well be a little lamp, because his bliss is casting out light all around him. It's near-blinding, and Aomine feels the need to avert his eyes. Tetsu's glow goes so far as to be touching upon the person sitting at the table with him; it must be that roommate Kise had been yelling about. Aomine's gaze slides over broad shoulders ( _nice)_ before flicking instinctually upwards - 

Aomine’s eyes meet an intoxicating fire, and right then and there he feels his body switch into that of a hunter. He thinks of a word he hasn’t thought of in years, not since Shougo— _mine._

_Oh, you’re going to be mine._

 

 

\---

 

 

Something’s different.

There’s something different about Kagami, yes, but more so there’s a difference with _himself._

He hates to say it, but lately he’s been losing his cool. In fact, he’s turned into a total loser. A complete goober. And it comes so out of left field that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. When did he get so dweeb-ish? He's always had a little problem with word vomit when he's around people of above-average hotness, but this has reached a whole new level. He finally understands what Satsuki talked about all those years ago, about getting butterflies in your stomach. It's warm and nauseating at the same time. 

The residual bitterness he feels as a constant state of his being is nearly forgotten. It’s still there, and it probably always will be, but when he’s with Kagami it retreats somewhere that can’t be touched. It’s replaced by something warm and soft, something that chases away the sadness every time it tries to rear its ugly head.

And it makes him become an utter _embarrassment_. He doesn’t know if it’s the giddiness over not having to feel the anger he’s so used to, but a side of himself he hasn’t seen in years pops up like it never left. He’s able to smile and laugh the way he usually only can with Satsuki. And it’s driving him crazy. Why can’t he be the smooth operator he usually is? Why is Kagami making this so difficult? If all he wanted was a casual fuck then normally he’d appreciate the challenge. But how can he not want more, when Kagami laughs and the fucking flowers grow? It’s unfair. It shouldn’t be allowed.

He loves it. He loves _him._

And it’s okay if those feelings are never returned. And it’s strange how much he _means_ that. As long as Kagami sticks around; as long as he leaves just a little bit of his life open for Aomine to occasionally slip into, then that’s fine. Anything to make Kagami happy.

Anything for this man whose brightness puts that ball of fire in the sky to shame.

 

\---

 

Eventually, Aomine gets to say it.  _Mine. Taiga, you're mine._ But it's not the way he initially thought. 

It was in a way infinitely better.

_And I'm yours. Forever, I'm yours._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the flashback episode in fanfiction form. Aomine’s experience with growing up, because i wanted to write it and I feel like it helps explain his feelings towards Honoka and his parents a little bit better. 
> 
> Ummmm i don't even think i can explain myself for how long this took??? i would literally never shut up about why but just know that. guys. I have never been so busy in my entire life. Moving, school, job, friends - the list is never ending. I just want to thank you for being so patient and putting up with my ridiculous updating gaps. but it'S GOING TO BE FINISHED - probably within the next few weeks, since i'm on winter break and the workload during the beginning of the term is usually pretty light (who am I kidding, it's gonna be longer than that lol) oh God, literally 3 chapters left (maybe less) and an epilogue? WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?
> 
> (that reminds me, it's officially been more than a year since I began writing this last September. i can't believe it.)  
> As always, thank you for your continuous support and for leaving me nice messages and generally showering my cloudy days with your sun-shiny-selves! the song lyrics in the title is "wishing weed" by jason reeves
> 
> As usual, i'm always welcome to talking on my tumblr at smileyeeyore.tumblr.com !!


	18. not a chapter update!!!

NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE - AUTHOR'S NOTE

  
Hello everyone who's subscribed to this story! First of all, I just wanted to say thank you for everything. Pony is my absolute FIRST FANFICTION, like ever, and this baby has ultimately been my teacher through these few years (YEARS!). I like to think that I learned so, so much about my style and writing from this story, and for that I'll always love it. I put so much time, so much thought and effort into the chapters, and seeing when people COMMENTED saying they liked what they read - I will never forget that feeling of seeing my very first kudos, the absolute joy and exhilaration of when I saw someone comment that they couldn't wait for the next chapter! Two years ago I decided I wanted to try writing AoKaga smut, and it developed into this absolute monster consisting of 99% fluff and meaningless antics. I think that says a lot about me as a person haha

This isn't me saying that I will never finish Pony. Because I'd like to - I really would. Unfinished business gives me the heebie jeebies. But as it's fairly obvious (it's been ten months since the last real update), I've hit a terrible patch of writer's block regarding this story. I know WHERE I want this story to go, but so far it's been impossible for me to think of a way for it to GET THERE. I've had 10,000 words sitting in microsoft word for a while now, untouched, and I don't know if I'm just a perfectionist (highly doubtful) but something about it doesn't sit right with me. I feel like I've written myself into a corner by writing about topics I am ignorant about. Like having unsupportive parents, a fear of coming out, homophobia, a lifetime of resentment - these are all things I've (thankfully) never had to experience, but the me from a year and a half ago didn't think about that when she chose to take this story in that direction. And now I'm afraid to continue, because I don't want to incorrectly portray the feelings of people who have to deal with these heavy topics in their real, actual lives. It feels a little insensitive of me to try. I don't know, maybe I'm being too "appropriate" or something. I know that authors write about things that have never happened to them all the time. But that's how I feel, and I continue trying to think of a way to write what I want while being aware of how people in real life deal with these things.

Anyways, I've rambled enough. This is just me apologizing to everyone who's been so supportive and encouraging, because it's thanks to you that I started writing for fun in the first place, and I've had SO MUCH FUN. I'm not quite as into AoKaga or the KNB fandom as I used to, but I'd be willing to keep working at this if any of you want me to. I know it's been a while since the last update and I understand if you've lost interest, which is totally understandable. I just want a rough idea if anyone following this story still wants it to continue, or if maybe I should just lay it to rest. Either way it's been a wild ride. 

If I ever end up updating, I'll definitely delete this. I'm kind of embarrassed posting this in the first place, so go easy on me, please. I love you all and I hope you have a great day!

  
<3 Lamb 


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